


Love in Losses

by mickmess



Category: NASCAR RPF, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Developing Relationship, First Time, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, RPF, Slash, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2648123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickmess/pseuds/mickmess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tragedy brings Carl Edwards and John Cena closer than they ever expected to get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Solace

**Author's Note:**

> This series has shifting points of view between Carl and John. *** signals change in POV. Carl will be Bolded. John will be normal.

Dead. He’s dead. He’s…dead? How is this possible? It can’t be possible. It’s not real. It’s a horrible nightmare. He’s not dead. Not a chance in hell. No. I won’t believe it. He’s only forty years old and he has so much to live for, so much left to do. He’s not dead. He’s NOT. Any minute now he’ll come waltzing into the arena and the show will go on and he’ll do his part to make the magic happen like he does every night. Maybe he’ll even have his wife and his little boy with him, like he sometimes does. But…dead? He’s not dead.

But he is. He’s gone. He’s dead and he’s never coming back and he took his wife and son with him. I don’t know why or how or even when, exactly, but I know it hurts. My chest is so tight I can’t breathe, my head has been pounding, my eye are burning with tears that just won’t stop falling. Chris Benoit is dead and I don’t know how to deal with this. I’ve never lost anyone this close to me before. Never in my life have I had to sit in front of a camera and tell the world that someone they cherish is gone. When Eddie died, I was upset. I knew him, worked with him, but I wasn’t as close to him as I am…was…to Chris. I can’t even think straight. I don’t know what to do with myself.

Before I can even really stop to comprehend what I’m doing, my cell phone is open and I’m flipping through the phonebook for someone- anyone -I can call to talk to. And that’s when I see his name. Him. I have to call him. For whatever reason, I know the sound of his voice on the line will calm me down, soothe me in a way that no other voice can. He’s the only one that can calm the storm brewing inside of me.

The phone starts to ring and I chew on my lip as I wait for him to answer. It’s unsettling that I’ve taken to him the way I have. Ever since we met while filming that show together, we’ve been attached at the hip. We can’t be together a lot because of our travel schedules but we’re always on the phone, emailing , texting…anything just to talk for a few seconds. I almost feel lost when we’re not in contact. I try not to think about all this as the phone continues to ring. Maybe I should hang up. I can’t leave a voicemail about someone dying. He’d think I was nuts.

“John? You there? Did you lose service again?”

It’s only when he calls out to me that I realize he’s been on the line and I didn’t even notice. I swallow down the lump in my throat and take a shaky breath, “Carl?” It’s all I can get out before the floodgates open and I’m bawling again. My entire body shakes as the sobs come out in a rush and I collapse onto my hotel bed. God, I wish he was here with me.

*        *        *

**As I taxi my jet down the runway in Corpus Christi, I can’t help but wonder what exactly it is I’m doing here. I barely know John, I shouldn’t feel so strongly about him like I do. And what scares me is that I know this goes beyond friendship. Since the first time I laid eyes on him I was attracted to him, wanted to be around him, wanted to know him inside and out. And then he calls me tonight, barely able to breathe because he’s cry- no, bawling -so damn hard. His friend died. A legend died. And he took his family with him. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain he’s feeling right now. All I know is that I need to get to him, need to comfort him in whatever way he needs.** **When my phone started ringing several hours earlier, I had no idea what was going on. I’d been in the middle of a video game binge with some friends and had debated ignoring the call until I saw his name on the ID. I’ve come to look forward to seeing his name there, or his screen name popping up on my computer screen. We’ve grown close over the past few weeks, and if I’m being completely honest, I loved having him in my pit box for the Busch race in Charlotte. Something about the way he looked in my team’s uniform…**

**Once my jet is taken care of, I rent myself a car and zoom down the highway to the hotel where he’s staying. I grip the wheel so hard my knuckles turn white as I follow the navigation system’s directions, my jaw clenched as I look intently out the windshield. The speedometer is pointing to 95mph, but right now I don’t care about speed limits. I couldn’t stand listening to him sobbing over the phone the way he was. My entire body ached with the need to be there comforting him. I wanted so badly to just hold onto him, rock him gently, tell him all the things he needs to hear. He needs me and I need to get there. Now.**

*        *        *

After I’d hung up with him, I sat on my hotel bed and wondered what I’d just done. Who was I to ask him to leave his friends and come spend the night with me, when he was so far away? I had no right at all to make him fly from his home to Corpus Christi, just to watch me bawl like a baby all night long. Hell, by the time he gets here, he’ll be so damn tired he won’t even give a damn anyway. Not to say he ever did really give a damn. But he must though, right? I mean…why else would he have offered to fly out to see me on a moment’s notice like he did? I don’t know, I’m just completely confused right now. Dealing with Chris’ death and my feelings for Carl, it’s all just one big mess inside of me and I want it to go away.

There’s a knock on my door at nearly three in the morning and I automatically know it’s him. Who the hell else would be coming to my room at this hour? I push my self up off the bed and make my way to the door, tripping over one of the shoes I’d thrown against the wall earlier. I’m still in my jeans and t-shirt , my belt through the loops but not fastened. I still can’t seem to find the energy to take it off and change into some sweats. I make it to the door without hurting myself and glance through the peephole, a weak smile breaking out on my face for an instant. He’s standing there in the hallway with his hands in his pockets, not even the slightest hint of fatigue about him.

I pull the door open and can instantly feel the relief washing over me as we come face to face. Without a word he steps into the room and pulls me into a bear hug. It’s rare that I find a man outside my profession who’s as strong and built as I am, so it almost surprises me at how strong his embrace is, how solid his body feels against my own. Letting all my inhibitions go, I hug him back, burying my face in his neck as a new set of tears begin to fall. I squeeze my eyes shut and succumb to the feel of him rocking me slowly, whispering soothingly into my ear. His hand caresses the back of my neck and I cling to him more, trying desperately to calm myself.

*        *        *

**As soon as he opened the door, all I could think of was getting him into my arms. The sight of John Cena completely rumpled, eyes bloodshot, face stained with tears was almost too much for me to take. My heart had dropped down into my stomach and I knew if I didn’t hold onto him I was going to wind up bawling with him. The last thing I’d expected was for him to embrace me back, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it. There’s very few men in this world that I’ll show this kind o f affection to, and I like the fact that he doesn’t seem to be uncomfortable by this at all. Then again, he’s grieving and grief does strange things to people.**

**After several long moments, he pulls away a little to wipe his eyes and looks down at me…he’s slightly taller than I am…and gives me a grateful half smile, “Thank you, Carl…it…it really…means a lot that you…came all this way….”**

**He sniffles and gasps for air between words and I can do nothing but tighten my arms around him, pull him in closer, “Don’t have to thank me, John. I know you’d have done the same for me.”**   



	2. You're a God

**When I woke up Tuesday morning, my surroundings were foreign and it took me several moments to distinguish the figure next to my own. John was still sleeping soundly, a shock to me considering his form the night before. He’d spent several hours see-sawing between bawling his eyes out and pulling himself together. His face was still splotchy and puffy, although not nearly as bad it had been. I was surprised my shirt was dry, considering all the tears that had soaked it so thoroughly, long after the sun had risen.**

**As it did every morning, the overwhelming desire to move itched through my veins and I found myself slipping out from under the covers. John didn’t budge as my feet touched the floor and I carefully stood up, not wanting to disturb him. He needed all the rest he could get. I tip toed my way to the bathroom, stopping to look myself over in the mirror as I washed my hands and face. Blue eyes and a chiseled jaw complete with a hundred watt smile stared back at me. My face was shaded by two day old stubble, sleep still misting my eyes.**

**On my way back into the bedroom, I spotted a ray of light peeking through the hotel’s tacky drapes, creeping along the equally tacky carpet and up the side of the bed. It fell several centimeters short of John’s eyes. Not wanting him to be roused just yet, I walked to the curtains and pulled them closer, the light disappearing and cloaking the room in a comfortable darkness.**

**My stomach growling cut through the silence, bringing hunger pangs to my attention. A quick look over the room service menu later, I’d put in an order for a fruit platter and two orders of eggs; two whites scrambled, toast; dry wheat bread, and two glasses of whole milk. I could only hope that John’s diet somewhat matched my own. A coffee pot on the desk caught my eye, and although I didn’t drink the stuff, I knew John liked a glass every now and then - decaf with one sugar and some of that powdered creamer. I set up the machine to make a cup for him and settled back on the empty bed. It occurred to me then that he didn’t have a roommate, which seemed a little odd. I always thought those guys traveled in pairs or more.**

**A knock at the door several minutes later had me up off the bed in a flash. John was still out cold and I wanted to keep it that way, at least for a little longer. I pulled the door open and was met by a motherly looking woman in her late thirties, at least. She lifted a tray up for me and I slipped her a tip before thanking her and heading back into the room. Bringing the tray over to the tiny end table, I stole a peek at John, who had stretched out a bit now, his face buried in the pillow my head had been occupying several minutes earlier. I debated waking him up so his food would be warm, but he just looked so…content. More than likely the smell of the food and coffee brewing would pull him from his slumber in due time.**

**As if reading my thoughts, his head lifted off the pillow just as I dug into a piece of toast. I watched as he rolled onto his back and slowly came back to the land of the living.  
**

* * *

 

Eggs. Coffee. Cologne. Smells seeped their way into my nostrils, each becoming more distinct as I woke up more. The startling realization that my bed was short a body jolted me from the last remnants of sleep and I flopped over onto my back, rubbing my burning eyes. Crying. I’d spent the entire night in his arms bawling like a baby. My eyes were probably still red, and I could feel the dried up tears on my cheeks. It’d been an awful night, not at all how I’d have liked to spend my few precious hours with him.

The smell of coffee became overwhelming and I had to have some. NOW. In one very ungraceful move, I managed to belly flop to the foot of the bed, landing inches away from where Carl was sitting, watching me as he chewed a mouthful of egg.

“Coffee…” I croaked, motioning to the pot, “Please, give me the brown stuff…”

I don’t know what made my stomach flutter more: the coffee mug being handed to me or the Colgate smile and laughter filled eyes Carl flashed at me. It was amazing how much he could cheer me up with just a look.

“Mm, god. So damn good…” I mumbled between gulps. Decaf, just the right amount of sugar and creamer, “Perfect, actually…”

Another thousand watt smile lit up his face, “I figured you’d be hungry, so there’s some breakfast to go with it…” he motioned to the untouched tray beside his, along with the half eaten fruit platter. My mouth watered as he reeled off the contents to me.

“Thanks Carl. I really appreciate this,” I hoped he realized I meant that in terms of everything and not just breakfast. I was still amazed that he’d flown out to be with me the night before, no questions asked.

“Don’t mention it, John,” his eyes told me he understood, “besides, I could always use the flying time. Looks good on my resume.”

God, I loved the way he could always make me smile. I guess that was part of his personality, and his charm. He was always happy and wanting the people around him to be as well. It was a trait I wished I’d had myself. Don’t get me wrong, I could be happy and make people smile, but Carl…he was on an entirely different playing field. He was incredible.

* * *

**John seemed to get lost in his thoughts as he wolfed down his breakfast. I knew there had to be a lot on his mind, but the last thing I wanted to do was pry. If he needed to vent or open up to me, he’d do it on his own terms. I wasn’t going to push him into saying anything he didn’t want to or wasn’t ready to say.**

**“Carl I- “ the shrill ring of the telephone cut off whatever he’d been about to say. He frowned, but got up to answer it anyway. I watched him as he spoke with whoever was on the line. By the way he tensed up and the tone of his voice, I knew what it had to be about. The harsh reality of why I was there sunk in all over again and my stomach churned. I could only hope that he wouldn’t completely fall apart again.**

**“…thanks, Vince. I’ll be sure to do that,” he said before hanging up. His voice was strained, like he was holding back another round of tears, or the urge to scream. He came back to the table and resumed eating, an ashen color to his face, eyes clouded with tears and locked on his plate. It was frightening how he suddenly looked like a lifeless zombie and not the guy who had been laughing with me moments earlier.**

**“…John?”  
**  
* * *

Carl’s voice snapped me out of my daze. I’d forgotten he was even in the room. I looked up at him, swallowing around the lump in my throat as tears burned the backs of my eyes. In one quick rush, everything my boss had relayed to me came pouring out. Every last horrific detail that I wished was a lie. What killed me the most was the last thing Vince had said to me, “I have to be at the arena for the show tonight. If I don’t show up I’m fired on the spot, no questions asked, no second chances.”

He didn’t even hesitate. Before the last word could even leave me lips, he declared, “I’m coming with you. Where is it? I’ll fly us if I have to.”

I couldn’t help myself. I burst into tears all over again.

This man was a god.


	3. Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is from John's POV only.

It’s like there’s this gravity between us, me and him. This constant force that pulls us together and holds us there. This thing that can’t be seen but exists so awesomely in our lives. Even when we’re hundreds of miles apart, it’s there. It never goes away, never loses momentum or strength. It’s what has us on the phone all night long when we should be sleeping. It makes us fly all over the country to be together, even if it’s just for a few measly hours. It’s what makes us who we are.

The more I see of him, the less I want to be apart. It’s been weeks since that night. Weeks since that distraught phone call that ended up with us being together for four full days. In those days, everything changed. we grew closer, got to know one another on an entirely new level. Our bond became tighter and feelings arose that neither of us could explain. We were moving beyond friendship but what lay beyond that we hadn’t a clue. It was obvious we both wanted something more, but what that something was was a mystery. There was a line we weren’t sure we could cross. We were both afraid of what would happen if we did.

But still, the gravity was there. It held us tight, pulled us in close, forced us to look one another in the eye, both wondering what now and why now and a hundred other things. It was all so confusing, so new and terrifying to us both. Every action was followed by a question, a second though.

Is it okay to hug all the time?

Are we allowed to lay on the same bed while we watch TV?

How far can we take the homo jokes before we cross the line?

When do the jokes stop being jokes?

Why is it so hard to say goodbye?

Is this friendship or is this more?

Is this love?

So many questions without answers and twice as many answers with even more questions attached to them. We weren’t sure we’d ever figure the puzzle out. We just went on acting like we always did, playing the charade of best friends. But deep down, we knew it went so much further than that. You don’t just put your life on hold for almost a full week for someone who’s just a friend. You don’t drop everything and fly half way across the country for just anyone. All those gestures, all the kind words and comforts are meant for a special few.

So where does all this leave us? We don’t know. All we know is gravity. A strong, unseen force, holding us together. And we’ll never try to fight it.


	4. Something for my Soul

**I can’t believe I’m sitting here watching a chick flick. It could be worse, I suppose. At least Drew Barrymore is in it. And the company’s not so bad, either. Jamie set me up with a friend of his, a cute brunette with a pretty smile and an athlete’s body. Normally, she’d be my type, but tonight… tonight? Her well endowed figure does nothing for me. Her flirtatious manner and dark brown eyes make me wish I was somewhere else. With someone else. Someone with blue eyes and a much larger build. A person whose hands don’t feel nearly as delicate in my own. Someone with less…female features.**

**I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing right now. The last time we spoke I was leaving Indy for Charlotte, about to sacrifice some days off to race in the Busch series in Montreal, doubling in Pocono for the cup race as well. He’d been somewhere out west, Arizona I think. He’d been leaving an autograph signing, on his way to another show. There’d been something in his voice. It was…sad, almost. It pulled at my heart. I miss him. I miss him a lot. It gives me stomach aches because it hurts so bad to be away from him. He always makes me feel more…whole? I guess that’s one way to phrase it. I don’t know. I just know I want him here with me.  
**  
* * *

Days off are an amazing thing. When I’m on the road, I want a day to relax. When I’m home I want to be in the ring. I’m never happy lately. I’m restless and lonely and I miss him. I miss him so much it hurts and that scares the shit out of me. I just want to be with him. Sometimes hearing his voice dulls the ache, but mostly it just makes me want him more.

I wonder what he’s doing right now. The last time we spoke I was being ushered onto a jet so we could make it to an autograph signing…or I was leaving one. Everything’s blurred, it’s so hard to remember. Next up on the schedule is Buffalo, NY but until then I have no idea what to do with myself. Of course, with him on my mind, it’s not surprising. Carl turns my brain to mush.

Without much thought, I pick up my phone and dial his number, knowing he’s somewhere in Montreal or Pocono right now. It’s one of those crazy double duty weekends he’s always raving about, where he has to fly between two tracks several times for all his different responsibilities. It amazes me that he never gets burned out. If I don’t have at least a couple days off a week I bug out. I need John time.

Tap my fingers impatiently on the armrest of my chair and wait for him to pick up.

* * *

**The sudden vibrations in my pocket jolt me out of the daze I’ve lost myself in. The movie’s been on for at least an hour and in that time the innocent looking brunette has practically crawled into my lap. This is not how I wanted my night to go, and my phone buzzing is just what I needed to escape her evil clutches. Saved by the buzz, indeed.**

**I gently nudge her off and squirm around until my jeans let free my phone and a huge grin spreads across my face when I see the ID. It’s John. Giving the girl an apologetic (albeit insincere) smile, I push myself up, explaining that this is a call I simply cannot miss. She looks less than thrilled, but I can’t find it in me to care.**

**Once off my coach and in the peaceful silence surrounding the driver’s lot, I flip my phone open and press it to my ear, “You have impeccable timing, Mr. Cena.”**

**His deep chuckle sends a chill down my spine, “Oh I do, huh?”**

**“Oh, totally,” my voice is light and cheery, just how he’s making me feel, “Jamie - you remember him from the show, right? He set me up with a friend of his girlfriend’s and it’s quickly heading into the disaster area.”**

**There’s a pause on his end of the line and I bite my lip. Did stupid Nextel drop his call again? I go to check my screen when he talks again, “…oh. A date? Maybe I should - I meant, I don’t want to -”**

**“John, don’t you listen? I’m glad you called,” I miss you, I don’t say, “It’s good to hear from you. What’s up?”  
**  
* * *

It’s like I just got socked in the gut. He’s on a date. With a chick. I’m sitting here missing the hell out of him and he’s cozied up with some girl, probably about to get laid or something. I feel sick. I want to throw up. All this time I’ve slowly been falling for him, admitting to myself that I have feelings for another man, and he’s seeing a woman. How could I be so stupid?

“John? Buddy you still there? Nextel didn’t eat your connection again, did it?” He sounds worried, confused even.

“No, I…” swallow around the lump in my throat, “Still here, man. Sorry, must’ve zoned out on you. What were you saying?”

He laughs and I can’t help smiling. I love his laugh, “I SAID you should swing by Pocono. You’re in Buffalo this week, right? It’s not very far. I could fly over and pick you up, even.”

My heart just skipped a beat. He wants to see me. He asked me to go to him. He offered to pick me up. My mood just lifted substantially. Maybe he does feel the same way I do. Maybe he just went on the date to throw off his friends or something. Damn boy, don’t get so far ahead of yourself. One step at a time. First you need to answer him, dummy!

“Yeah! That sounds awesome, Carl. I had a kickass time down in Charlotte, I could go for another race weekend.”

I can practically hear the glint in his Colgate smile, “Awesome! Let me get rid of this girl and I’ll come get you. Should only take me an hour or so, I think. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”

Sweeter words have never been spoken.


	5. Worlds Apart

Six to twelve months. I can’t believe this. Almost an entire year of my life coming to an abrupt halt. And for what? A damn muscle that couldn’t hold up. A pectoral tear that hurts like a bitch and now requires four days a week worth of therapy, prescription pain killers that go untouched, and a stripping of my title. That hurts more than my chest does. Never been injured in my life and now one tear takes everything away; my job, my title, my ability to do anything that requires effort outside a doctor’s office.

Which explains why I’m currently on my couch in my boxers watching I Love Lucy reruns. God, my life sucks. Champion on minute, couch potato the next. It’s amazing the way the world works. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. At least if I had some company I’d be occupied for a while. Of course, mom and dad are working and my brothers all have lives and families of their own to worry about. There’s always Carl, but since our last outing together, things have been…strained, I guess.

Christ, I can’t do anything right, can I? Fuck up my body, which fucks up my job, fuck up one of the best friendships I have because…because I’m a pussy. Because I was finally able to get exactly what I’d been wanting all along and I fucking choked. I’m such a fuck up. There he was, giving himself over to me, opening himself up entirely, and I let him down. Turned him down. Because I was scared.

* * *

**Six to twelve months. It’s unbelievable. I didn’t see it happen, but I imagine it must be a pretty painful injury. Gosh, and I thought breaking some fingers was painful. I don’t know how he does it, beating himself up for a living. It’s a wonder he’s managed to go this long without incident, really. Hopefully he’s okay. Hopefully he’s a fast healer and he’ll be back in the ring in no time. I’ve got faith in him. He’ll pull through this and come back better than ever.**

**I’ve wanted to call him since I found out, but I can’t work up the nerve to do it. Funny how that happens. A few weeks ago I’d call him without even thinking about it. Now I have to force myself to keep from dialing his number. And why? Because I’m an idiot. I read too much into things, let myself see what wasn’t really there. I ruined the best friendship I’ve ever had because I was so desperate for there to be something more.**

**I really thought he felt the same way. I swear I saw something in his eyes. I never would have a made a move otherwise. But then he turned me away. I’m so stupid. I’m an idiot for ever thinking there was even the slightest possibility that he felt that way about me. And now he won’t talk to me and when he does it’s so strained it’s like we’re some divorced couple just keeping it together for the kids, and I hate that. I hate that I’ve ruined this friendship like I have. I wish there was a way to take it all back and pretend it never happened.**

**It’s gotten to the point now where I’ve done all the beating up of myself that I possibly could manage. I’ve turned into a horribly bitter person and I’ve started to take it out on those around me. I mean, come on. MATT? He gives me a bump on the track and I lose it? Since when does that happen? I’m a firm believer in racing hard and trading paint and then I go and snap at a teammate? I don’t even know what I was thinking going after him on camera. It was like it wasn’t even me. I was outside myself, watching it happen and completely unable to stop it. And of course, now he won’t return my calls. I’ve turned into such a jackass.  
**  
* * *

I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Carl, going after his teammate. He’s so angry. I barely got a glimpse of his face during the video clip they showed on SportsCenter, but it’s so damn obvious how upset he is. Everything in his body language tells me just how out of sorts he is. The killer is that I know it’s entirely my fault. He’s probably been beating himself up over what happened since that day. Since the day he tried to kiss me and I threw him off like he was some diseased freak of nature and I couldn’t get away fast enough. I wonder if he knows I’m hurting just as bad as he is over it. How much I wish I could change it all.

Of course he doesn’t. Why would he? He probably wants to pretend I don’t even exist. He probably hates my guts and does everything he can not to think about me. I know if I were him I’d probably do the same damn thing. I’d do the best I could to keep my mind off him and his very existence. Of course, that would mean staying locked in a room away from the television, the computer, the radio, and just about every form of print available.

Phone ringing. MY phone ringing. Who the hell would be calling me? I reach for my cell and feel my heart rate speed up when I see the ID. It’s him. It’s Carl. He’s calling me. This is insane. It’s a joke. His phone’s probably in his pocket and dialing without him even knowing it. I shouldn’t even pick up because it’ll crush me when all I hear is the inside of his jeans.

Fuck it. I take a breath and flip my phone open.

* * *

**My heart is somewhere in my throat right now. I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself. Why am I setting myself up for even more disappointment? He’s going to ignore my call and it’ll go to voicemail and then I’ll be forced to leave some lame message because I hate it when people call and don’t leave a voicemail saying what it is they wanted to say to me and then leave me wondering until I can get in touch with them again. It’s one of my biggest pet peeves so when I call other people and get their voicemail I have no choice to but leave them a message with the hope they’ll do the same if I miss their call. What the hell am I talking about? The ringing stopped but I don’t hear that annoying automated-**

**Oh god. He picked up. He answered. He’s asking me why I’m not saying anything. Oh good lord what do I do? I forgot how to talk. I can’t make my mouth move. I can’t even squeak!**

**“Ok the game’s over, Edwards. Talk or I’ll never answer your calls ever again. I really hate it when people play games with me and you know it, damn it!”**

**“John!” His name comes out in a rush of breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding in. My heart’s racing now and I don’t know what to do. Calling him was so stupid. He hates me. He doesn’t want to talk to me. He only picked up to yell at me.**

**“Yeah, Jesus. The least you could have done was answer me the first time. I was starting to think you pocket dialed me or something.”**

**I can’t make out his tone. Does he miss me? Is he still angry that I kissed him? I hate that I can’t read him as easily as I can other people. He’s got me on edge now and I don’t know if I should say what I really called to say or just pretend that this is one of those “just checking up on you and your injury” type calls. I swallow hard around the lump in my throat and take a breath to calm myself before whispering, “I… I’m sorry, John.”**

**He hesitates a moment and I wonder if he can hear my heart pounding like I can. I swallow hard, counting the long moments of silence until he speaks again, “It’s alright, Carl.”**

**The sigh of relief that escapes me is completely out of my control. My heart rate slows back to normal and I can feel myself relax just the tiniest bit, “I, um…I just…” Shit, I just what? I don’t even know what to say to him. This was a bad idea. A really bad idea.**

**“…I miss you too, Carl.”**

**He…he what? Did he jus- I mean…he…John…**

**“You do?” The shock I’m feeling makes my voice crack and I nearly drop the phone. He misses me. He just openly admitted that he misses me. And he knows I miss him. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Maybe we just needed to talk and work things out. Maybe if I just apologize we can pretend it never happen and everything will be okay again. We can be us again, because that’s really all I want right now. I just want us to go back to being the incredible friends we were before I went and did something so stupid.**


	6. Feel it Coming

The hot, muggy heat of Texas isn’t something you can grow accustomed to in a weekend. The sweat drips down your back, the air is thick, and the bugs are everywhere. The sun shines down so hard that even with a hat and sunglasses on it still makes you squint. Usually I avoid places like this, but not this weekend. This weekend I’ve brought myself here for him and him alone. Because he asked me to be here and I needed to come. I needed to see him, to know that everything we said on the phone last weekend is true and we’re back to being us, two friends who love to spend time together and just hangout like normal people do. Not that we’re normal by any means, but we do the best we can to stay as close to it as possible. I’m here because Carl asked me to come out and I needed to get out of the house for a while. I was going insane staring at the walls and watching the same damn reruns all the time. I came because it hurt so bad not being around him.

The coach door swings open and I watch from the couch as Carl bounds up onto his home away from home. It’s been a good weekend for him so far and from the way he’s carrying himself he’s as happy to have me around as I am to be around. He walks over and flops down next to me, far enough not to jostle me but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. He’s still in his fire suit, the arms tied around his waist, and his t-shirt is clinging to his chest. Must have been damn hot in that car of his. I don’t even know which car he was in, because he runs so many different ones. I’m pretty sure he just qualified for the Busch race and practiced for the Cup race, but I could be wrong. His schedules are more confusing than mine half the time.

“So, how’s it going out there? I’d know for myself if I was allowed to leave the couch, but this pain in the ass guy I’m staying with seems to think I’m made of glass and can’t leave the confines of his tuna can.” I give him a grin and reach over to shove him playfully.

“Hey, this isn’t just ANY tuna can, you know. This tuna can cost me a nice chunk of change. So be grateful I locked you away in here and not, say, the transporter. The air conditioning in there is broken and it smells like old socks or something. And things are fine. I really think we’re finally going to wrap up the Busch championship tonight. Gonna come out and watch from pit road?” There’s a hopeful look in his eyes, but I’m pretty sure he already knows the answer to his question.

Still, though…it’s fun to mess with his head sometimes. I wrinkle my nose and make a disgusted face, “And sit out there sweating my balls off when I could be in here all relaxed and laid up on this couch? Nah, I think I’ll pass. Besides, someone threatened to kick my ass if I even thought about leaving, so…”

“Smart ass.” He flicks at my ear and grins that thousand-watt smile only he can manage, “You know damn well I want nothing more than to have you hanging out with my mom up on the pit box. In fact, I’ll be highly disappointed if you’re not there.” He pouts at me, but the charade only lasts a moment before his grin returns, “C’mon, lets go. I’m not taking no for an answer, Cena.”

A smirk forms on my face as I push myself to my feet. It’s a huge relief that we’ve been able to go back to being us so easily. I wiggle my eyebrows at him and give him a wink before speaking flirtatiously, “I love it when you get all demanding, Edwards.”

* * *  
 **  
I feel lucky today. Maybe it’s because I’m finally happy again. Maybe it’s because I can finally lock up my long-awaited championship. Or maybe it’s because John’s here with me. He’s here and that means my life can go back to normal. Knowing he came to see me, spend time with me, watch me race…my heart skips a beat knowing I haven’t lost him. So what if he didn’t kiss me back? We’re friends and I couldn’t ask or need anything more than that.**

**It was stupid, really. We’d been hanging out in his hotel room in New Jersey watching TV. I’d just had a weekend of fun at The Glen and he was finishing up a mini-tour in New York. Some dates in Buffalo, ending with a night at MSG. We were both in silly, slap-happy moods and it was great. Things were perfect. And then I ruined it.**

**Channel surfing had somehow led us to a cable version of Armageddon, a movie we both admitted was a guilty pleasure, so we settled in to watch. By this point, it was common for us to use one another as body pillows, so I’d been stretched out next to him, both of us propped up on pillows against the headboard, my head on his shoulder. It wasn’t in a flirtatious or sexual way, we were just relaxed and comfortable. It felt perfectly normal and right.**

**The trouble came somewhere around the animal cracker scene. While Ben Affleck wooed Liv Tyler with his National Cracker Geographic, John and I snuggled in closer. His fingers were tracing circles along my bicep and my hand had come to rest on his knee, stroking it slowly with my thumb. This was new behavior, an entirely new playing ground to us both, but he didn’t seem to mind.**

**As the movie wore on, the snuggling intensified. I’d somehow managed to get between his legs, my back to his chest, his chin resting on my head. I’d used his knees as arm rests and his arms were around my waist, fingers just under my shirt tracing along my skin. This was strange and new but neither of us mentioned it, just continued to watch Bruce Willis and his misfit gang try to save the Earth from its impending doom.**

**It was somewhere between Steve Buscemi riding the rocket and Ben Affleck drawing the short straw. I’d tilted my head back to tell him something and our lips came dangerously close to touching. When he didn’t jerk away, I looked up into his eyes and I swear I saw-**

**“CARL GO LOW! OUTSIDE, OUTSIDE! STAY LOW!!”**

**WHOA! I swerve down to the apron, barely avoiding slamming into another car. God, I forgot I was driving! I don’t even know what lap we’re on! I swallow hard and try to regain my bearings. C’mon man, this is for the championship, stop dwelling on the past! Pay attention! Drive!  
**  
* * *

I don’t know how much more of this I can take. The Busch Series is like the fucking demolition derby. People keep crashing, caution flags keep flying, and Carl is ridiculously quiet. It’s not like him at all to not babble away on the radio. He didn’t even say anything about the handling on the car when he got loose in a turn and nearly hit the wall. I can’t help wondering what’s wrong, but part of me thinks I might be the problem. Maybe I’m distracting him.

Shake my head slightly and turn my attention back to the race. There’s 87 laps to go and in a couple minutes he’ll have the championship clinched. We’re all buzzing with excitement up here on the pitbox. His mom’s leg hasn’t stopped bouncing for the last hour. His crew chief hasn’t sat down since the fourth caution. It’s all sort of amusing. God, I can’t wait for him to win this thing. It’s going to be an amazing moment, a complete explosion of excitement and happiness. I’m glad he asked me to be here. This isn’t something I’d have wanted to miss.

* * *

**I did it. I FINALLY did it. I won the championship! It’s mine! It’s all MINE!**

**Back flip. Need to back flip. Helps if the net comes down first. There. NOW back flip. Or not. I’ve been called to victory lane for a photo op. God, this sucks. I want to flip. I want to climb onto my window and jump off and land on my feet facing the crowd. I need to feel that rush. I need to get rid of some of this excited energy before I wind up knocking my mom over when she comes to congratulate me with John.**

**John. Oh god, John. He’s here. I forgot he was here after my little trip down memory lane. I got so caught up in the race and paying attention and not wrecking that I forgot he was up there watching everything. Where the hell is he? Why isn’t he here yet-**

**“OH MY GOD!” The girlish shriek escapes me before I even have a chance to think. There’s two very large arms around my waist and my feet are off the ground as someone- more than likely John -spins in circles gleefully with me, like I’m their personal rag doll. Not that I mind. I happen to enjoy being in his arms.**

**When he finally puts me down, I turn around all smiles and pounce on him, wrapping him in the tightest bear hug I can manage without completely hurting his chest. He grins and laughs and hugs me back, yelling into my ear over the sounds of victory lane and roaring fans to congratulate me and tell me how happy he is for me. I’m so excited that I can’t even talk right now. All I can manage is a wide grin and even wider eyes. This is even better than I imagined it being.  
**  
* * *

It seems like hours before all the hoopla in victory lane is over with. Longer still until we’re back on his coach and he’s flitting about happily, regaling me with every last detail of the race. Driver’s point of view in the rawest form. I love every second of it. He’s so excited, so happy, so proud of himself and what he’s accomplished and it makes me swell with pride for him. I keep asking if he wants to go out and celebrate but he just insists that there’s plenty of time for that later, after the race tomorrow, after Homestead two weeks from now when it’s really official.

After several laps around the living room, he kicks his shoes off and starts to get undressed and I swallow hard. I’ve never seen him undress before. I’ve never even seen him shirtless. Carl’s an incredibly modest person and I know that right now it’s the endorphins flowing through his veins and the excitement of being the champ that has him so willing to get naked in front of a guy that freaked out on him for kissing him on a whim so recently ago. I go to say something but before I can he stops what he’s doing and looks at me. His eyes are dark, darker than I’ve ever seen them before and his face is completely void of the excitement and laughter that were there only moments before. It’s making me nervous. He’s making me nervous.

Before I can ask what’s wrong he’s across the tiny space and on my lap, his hands on my face and our eyes locked together. I was afraid of this. That look on his face, I’ve seen it before. When he kissed me. I swallow harder and go to protest, but the words won’t leave my lips. I want this. I do. I wanted it the first time but I was so thrown for a loop that I panicked and shoved him off. I put my hands on his hips where his suit is bunched up from his attempt at undressing and bite my bottom lip softly.

* * *  
 **  
I don’t know what’s come over me, but I can’t stop myself. I got this huge urge to pounce him and now that I’m here on his lap and he’s not protesting or pushing me off, I’m not sure what to do about it. I can’t just get off of him, he’ll think I’m crazy and go running. But if I kiss him again…TRY to kiss him again…it might ruin everything for good. I might lose him for real this time. And I couldn’t live with myself if I did that.**

**His hands are warm on my hips where the bare skin is exposed to the cool air around us. I’d been attempting to take my fire suit off when I’d remembered the fact that I’d run out of clean boxers and was going commando under the damn thing. I couldn’t very well flash him after everything I’d already put him through. And yet, here I am on his lap, throwing myself at him. Of course, in my mind I chose the lesser of two evils.**

**It’s suddenly occurred to me that he’s still not protesting. In fact, he’s looking up at me expectantly, his thumbs tracing along my skin, sending shivers down my spine. This isn’t what I was expecting at all, and now I’m not quite sure how to respond. I go to say something, but nothing seems right. The words just won’t come out. So I do the only thing I can think of. I kiss him.**

**My heart’s pounding in my chest and I can feel the blood pulsing in my ears. My lips are firm against his, but he’s not stopping me. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in close and finally…finally…he kisses me back. One of his hands creeps up to wrap around the back of my neck and he tilts his head a little to deepen the kiss, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in an invitation that I take full advantage of.  
**  
* * *

It’s like an electric jolt when I feel his tongue slide against mine. My body suddenly lights on fire and my nerves burn white hot, jumping at every touch. I tighten my arm around his waist, my fingers tangling in his hair as he presses himself against me, and I can feel him getting just as hard as I am. This isn’t what I was expecting. I was sure I’d enjoy the kissing, but I never thought I’d get so damn turned on. But Christ, he feels amazing. I want more, now. So much more, and I have a feeling it’s a mutual thing.

I gasp suddenly against his lips as he starts to grind against me, my hips lifting of their own volition. He chuckles deep in his throat and I can feel it vibrating in his chest. It sends a shudder of pleasure through me and I have to swallow down a moan. Start to slide my hands up under his shirt, ghosting my nails over his skin and now it’s him who’s fighting off a moan as he bites down gently on my neck. I tilt my head to the side a bit, my eyes drifting closed as he nibbles at the sensitive flesh there, working his hips in a circle against mine. This is almost more than I can take.

His hands slip under my shirt and he starts to push it up my chest as he drags his fingertips along my skin, his mouth still working along my neck. I arch into his touch, my own hands mirroring his until both our shirts are up as far as they can go. Before I can even ask, he’s sitting up and tugging his shirt off, then urges me to lift up my arms so he can rid me of mine. I do so willingly, biting my lip as I take in the sight of his naked chest.

Carl is a magnificent creature, inside and out. God chose to grace him with an incredible personality and then awarded him a great set of abs for working so hard at being a good person. At least, that’s how I feel about him. The 200 sit ups and endless hours at the gym don’t really hurt either. That’s all beside the point, though. Right now all I can focus on is this Adonis before me, leaning back to rest his hands on my knees, drinking me in the same way I’m drinking him in. We’re both in complete awe of one another, and it’s an incredible feeling. I’d love nothing more than to sit here gawking at him for the next few hours.

* * *  
 **  
I can’t stop staring. I’ve seen John shirtless dozens of times. I’ve seem him on TV, sweating and muscles bulging, lifting men twice his size onto his shoulders. It was never a secret that he’s near perfection. But seeing it in person, up close like this…God, it’s such a turn on. It’s making me harder than I am already. It’s making me want him more than I ever thought possible. His skin is taut over every rock hard muscle. Can’t get enough of touching them. Run my hands up and down his torso, trying to remember every little dip and curve along the way.**

**When I finally manage to tear my gaze from his chest, my eyes meet his and I can see a myriad of emotions swirling within the blue depths locked on my own. This isn’t what I’d expected, but I certainly don’t want to ruin the moment by pushing him further than he’s willing to go. I want him, badly, but I’m not going to force anything on him. I don’t want to make him feel obligated.**

**As if reading my mind, he pulls me in close and nips at my Adam’s apple, his hands trailing across my back and ribs. I’ve been with other men before, but none of them were ever as forward and take-charge as John. I was always the bigger one in the relationship, the more butch one…the top. Which leads me to wonder who exactly’s going to be doing what if this progresses any further. I’ve never bottomed to anyone before. I don’t even know if I’d like it. But John…he doesn’t exactly seem like the twink-type either. This could get incredibly interesting.**

**The feel of his teeth dragging along my pulse at the curve of my neck brings me back to the present and my body begins to tremble. His hands are on my ass now, pulling me in tight against him. I whimper softly, unable to hold back anymore, and run my fingers through his hair, crushing our chests together as I lean into him more. He smirks against my neck before biting down on the sensitive flesh and I let out a yelp, tugging hard at his hair. Before he can ask if he’s hurt me or if I liked that, I lean in and kiss him roughly, dragging my nails down his chest, careful not to hurt his injured pec. He moans loudly against my lips, lifting his hips a little to grind up against me and I gasp, grinding back against him without really thinking about it.**

**Several moments go by like this, the two of us kissing and exploring one another’s bodies as much as we can in our current state. His hands feel like they’re everywhere at once and it’s making my head spin. I can’t stand much more of this. I need more. I want more.  
**  
* * *

I can feel how worked up Carl’s getting and I want to do something about it. I want to take this to the next level. I need him. I need him so badly that it hurts and I know he feels exactly the same way. We’ve both felt this way since the day we met but neither of us knew what to do about it or how to move things along. When he finally did work up the nerve, I pushed him away and sent us three steps back when he was trying to take a leap forward. Not anymore, though. Now I want this, and I’m sure of it. More sure than I’ve ever been of anything else in my life.

Keeping my arms wrapped tight around his waist, I scoot to the edge of the couch and start to push myself up, amid his many protests about hurting myself. I ignore it though, smirking to myself when he gives in and wraps his legs around my waist as I stand, holding him effortlessly with my good arm. He might be big and bad in the NASCAR community, but where I play around he’s hardly a threat. No longer wanting to hear his protests, I kiss him deeply and make my way toward the bedroom, managing to make it to the doorway without banging into anything. His arms are wrapped tight around my neck as he kisses me, his tongue battling with my own as I press him against the doorframe.

Before I can even register what’s going on, he manages to get a hand between us and pops open the button of my jeans, tugging at them so the fly unzips as well. I look up at him, somewhat surprised. Up until just now he’d been pretty reserved, and the change in attitude is a bit shocking. But then…I’m the one holding him up against the wall. He wriggles around a bit until he succeeds in getting my pants down over my hips and I bite my lip softly as he traces his fingers lightly over my hip bones. It’s one of the most sensitive areas on my body and all the sensation sends electric shocks through my nerves.

“Carl…” It’s all I can manage to get out before he devours me in another kiss, somehow managing to slip from my grasp back to his feet. He catches me off guard and pushes me backward to the bed, his lips never leaving my own as we hit the mattress and go tumbling down onto it. I waste no time getting his suit down as far as I can reach and when he pulls away a moment later, it’s only long enough to rid us both of the last of our clothing. My eyes rake down his body as his do the same, both of us in complete awe of the other.

* * *

**Perfection, plain and simple. John’s body has not a flaw on it. At least, none that I can see. I crawl up over him to straddle his thighs, walking my fingers along his hip bones. He shivers and his eyes flutter closed, and I know I’ve found one of his sweet spots. I run my palms over them this time, licking my lips as he lets out a low moan deep in his throat. As if I wasn’t hard enough, I feel my cock twitch, the precum gathered at the slit threatening to spill over. At the rate we’re going, all it’s going to take is his breath against my skin for me to explode.**

**As his eyes open again, I can barely contain myself. They’ve darkened almost to black, the deep velvety sapphire looking up at me full of lust. I can’t hold back anymore. I need to have him, need to hear him moaning and begging me for more. I want to taste him.**

**Ever so slowly, I scoot back enough so that I can lean down, snaking my tongue out to trace lightly along his length. He gasps and his hands grip my arms tightly. Just the reaction I’d been hoping for. I move in further, slowly taking him into my mouth, sucking lightly, reveling in the soft whimpers it elicits. I don’t want to tease him, though. I want to make him come. Catching him completely by surprise, I drop my head down, taking him in all the way to the back of my throat. He lets out a strangled cry of pleasure and I continue on, swallowing and sucking around him as I pull back agonizingly slow before taking all of him in again. I can feel him shaking beneath me, his cock trembling as I speed up little by little.  
**  
* * *

Oh. My. God.

Carl’s mouth is the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt in my life. It’s as if I’ve lost control of my body as he works his magic on me, bobbing and sucking, teeth grazing ever-so-lightly in all the right places. He pulls back to tease my head, his tongue flicking and swirling around it, dipping into my slit over and over as his hand works my shaft in long, hard strokes. My back arches up off the bed, hips rocking of their own volition and I don’t know how much more of this I can take. It’s sweet torture and I want it to last forever but at the rate he’s going I’ll be lucky to last another minute.

“Carl…I…fuck…” Words aren’t an option at this point, he’s got me so worked up. He looks up at me as he deep throats me again and gives me an incredibly erotic wink as he sucks as hard as he can. That’s all it takes for me to come undone in a white hot blinding flash. I moan loudly, screaming his name and tangling my fingers in his hair as he swallows every last drop.

* * *

**Incredible. It’s the only way to properly describe him. Everything about John Cena is over the top. I could sit here all night, drinking him in for hours. Of course, at the moment I also need him, badly. His orgasm only managed to turn my arousal up 150% and now I can barely breathe. But there’s still the matter of who’s on top here.**

**“Carl?” He’s looking up at me, concern clear in his eyes. I’ve gone insanely quiet on him and now he must be fearing the worst. It’s the look of concern in his eyes that gets me and I know what has to be done.**

**“Yes, John?” I give him the most confident smile I can manage and crawl up over his body, making sure my erection rubs against his in the process. He gasps and jolts up against me. I can’t help but moan, pressing myself harder against him. I swear if I don’t have him soon…**

**“Carl…” his voice is deep and throaty this time and it sends a shiver down my spine, “Carl…lube, condom…anything, just…NOW…”**

**I shiver again and reach over into the nightstand drawer beside the bed, pulling out a bottle of KY and a Trojan. He watches me curiously and I know he’s thinking the same thing I was earlier.  
**  
* * *

It’s not until he’s got the condom in his hand that the weight of the situation hits me. I’ve never had sex with a man before. I’m still not even sure if he expects me to be the pitcher or the catcher, although I’m hoping to be the former.

“John?” Now it’s him giving me the look of concern, “Everything okay?”

I nod slightly, watching as he tears open the condom packet. I want to say something, but at the same time I just want to keep my mouth shut. What if I say I don’t want to take it up the ass and he gets mad or something? The last thing I want to do is upset him. Before I can decide on a course of action, though, he starts sliding the condom on me and I sigh in relief. He looks up at me , laughter in his eyes, but says nothing. I watch as he pops open the KY and squeezes some out into his hand. He starts to stroke me slowly, working the lube in, and I whimper softly, arching into his touch.

After a moment he pulls back and crawls up over me, leaning in to kiss me softly. I run my hands down his back, nipping at his bottom lip before he pulls away a little, looking me square in the eye, “I want you to know…I’ve never…never done this before. I mean, I have, just…I’m usually…it’s normally…not me…”

He’s completely flustered but I know what he’s getting at. Stroke his face reassuringly and kiss his forehead, “Take your time, Carl. I’m not in a rush…want us both to enjoy this…”

* * *  
 **  
The look in John’s eyes is genuine caring and I’m immediately put at ease. I’m still terrified it’s going to hurt and be a terrible experience but I try to push the fear aside. I want him, and if this is how it has to be… Start to lower myself down onto him slowly, hissing at the feel of him entering me. It doesn’t hurt how I thought it would, but it’s still not entirely pleasant. He reaches up to stroke my face gently, resting his other hand on my hip.**

**“Slow, Carl…take it easy…” he murmurs softly, and I know he means it.**

**Slowly ease myself down further, gasping at the feel of him filling and stretching me. The pain subsides a little and I manage to take all of him in, leaning on his legs for support. Christ, it’s no wonder more men aren’t gay. This hurts like a bitch. I take several deep breaths to calm myself before rocking against him, almost experimentally. He whimpers and grips my hips tightly and I can feel him forcing himself not to move. Surprisingly, it only hurts a tiny bit and I do it again, grinding myself against him.  
**  
* * *

It’s amazing. I never knew it could be like this. Just being inside of him is enough to make me come. He’s so hot and tight and fuck, it just feels incredible. He’s obviously uncomfortable but I keep my mouth shut, watching as he eases himself into this, slowly working himself up to the point where it feels good. I don’t want to rush him but at the rate he’s going I might lose control and help him along.

Just as I’m about to lift my hips up to grind into him, he starts to ride me slowly. I gasp, moaning softly as he lifts himself up little by little, before easing back down. Fuck, this is more like it. His face screws up in a mixture of concentration and discomfort as he speeds up and I bite down on my lip, grasping his hips tightly. In almost no time he’s riding me at an amazing pace, moaning loudly as he shifts for a better angle. I gasp and arch up against him, panting his name as I dig my nails into his skin.

* * *  
 **  
Oh…my…GOD!**

**I don’t know what happened, but with one perfectly aimed thrust all the pain disappeared and in its wake is nothing but pleasure. Pure, unadulterated pleasure and I want more. I sit up a little straighter and ride him harder, letting my eyes drift shut as I concentrate on what I’m doing. John moans and whimpers loudly, bringing his hips up to meet my every rise and fall and fuck, I want more.**

**“John…fuck, John…” His name is the only clear thought I can form. My body’s on fire, veins pumping white hot ecstasy through me. My eyes spring open as he wraps a hand around my cock, stroking me quickly. I moan deep in my throat and thrust into his hand, yelping at the new sensation this brings on. Start to alternate between riding him and fucking his hand, never taking my eyes off his face.  
**  
* * *

The look in Carl’s eyes is so intense I can’t pull myself away. He’s enjoying himself as much as I am now, riding me hard and fast. It’s amazing and I know I’m not going to last much longer. Feel my body start to tense, every muscle warning me of what’s about to come and I cry out, stroking him quickly, “Carl, fuck…I…I’m gonna…”

As if he’d been waiting for me to tell him, he rides me harder, wrapping a hand around mine so he can get exactly what he wants. I can feel him start to tighten around me and at the first spasm of his release, I lose it. My entire body shakes and my back arches up off the bed, forcing me deep inside of him.

“Oh GOD John!” He grinds his hips down against mine, letting out the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard in my life as he release comes in hot, wet spurts, dripping down over both our hands.

* * *  
 **  
It’s all I can do not to pass out as I collapse on top of him, burying my face in his neck as I pant heavily. That was without a doubt the most mind blowing orgasm of my life. My entire body trembles as the last of my release washes over me and I sigh contentedly. That was way better than I ever imaged it being. No matter how many times I say it, I never get sick of it…John’s amazing. He’s incredible and perfect and after what we just shared I know I can never let him go. I’ve never let anyone have this part of me before and it’s like I just lost my virginity all over again.**

**Suddenly, I’m feeling vulnerable and exposed, but before I can do anything about it, his big warm arms are wrapping protectively around me, holding me close to him. I smile softly and press my cheek to his chest, listening to his heart beating slow and even. He rubs my back slowly, kisses the top of my head gently, and sighs happily. I grin and tilt my head back to look up at him, kissing his jaw gently. Without a word, I can tell he feels exactly the same way I do.  
**


	7. The Past was Much More Fun

**We haven’t been alone together since that night. Since the night everything changed and our relationship took on a whole new meaning. We’ve seen plenty of one another, but not in conditions either of us have really liked all that much. He’s gone back to work, making a big splash since the night of his return. Back to kicking ass and taking names and making all the little girls scream and wet their panties. He showed up at testing in California, but only long enough to say hi and watch me drive for a little while. Then he was off to another show. I managed to sneak away to a Raw filming but didn’t get to stick around long enough after the show ended to spend any substantial time with him. Now here we are at this ridiculous commercial shoot and it’s taking every bit of strength I have not to pounce on him and drag him off to a dark corner for some alone time. I can’t stand being this close to him, touching him like I have been, but not really being able to touch him.**

**I don’t know who came up with the idea for this commercial, but I’d like to thank them for giving me a chance to spend more than five minutes with my lover. He’s been walking around half naked all day, in nothing but a pair of jean shorts with his boxers hanging out. They keep oiling up his chest to make him look shiny or something and it’s killing me. The bulging muscles, the veins snaking down his arms, the way he sneaks a look at me when he thinks no one’s looking. God, if I don’t get to spend some time with him today I might blow up. I might implode. I might…fuck, I don’t know what I’ll do but I need to be with him. We’ve had sex once since that night. We had just enough time for a quickie when he came out to see me in California and it was…I want more. I NEED more.**

**“Carl! Carl, are you listening? C’mon you need to pay attention so you don’t get hurt!” There’s a director or producer or some other commercial expert waving a hand in my face, bringing me out of my daze. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind and blush when I realize everyone’s looking at me and it becomes obvious I’ve been holding things up while lost in my daydreams. I apologize and pay attention as John and some other wrestler show us some simple wrestling moves. Body slam, stunner, suplex, dropkick. I can do this stuff, no problem. I sort of wish I’d be the one getting body slammed instead of Denny. It’d be fun having John’s hand that close to my crotch for a couple takes.**

 

I can’t believe this is our first time together for any extended period of time and we have to be surrounded by people. Why, why, WHY couldn’t they have let me body slam Carl? Or at least pin him or something. Anything just so we could hold one another for a minute or two. No, of course not. He gets to dropkick me onto a table, and give me a backbreaker over his knee, and that’s that. I have to admit though, he’s pretty good. Maybe if the racing doesn’t work out he can come and be my tag team partner. That would have a ton of potential. For us, anyway. At least we’d be together more often. Long distance relationships suck, especially when all parties involved travel for a living. All we can really do is suck it up, though. We knew what we were getting into when we started all this.

 

It’s amazing no one’s caught on to us yet. We’ve been spending every break together, off in a corner of the ring talking quietly amongst ourselves. Our eyes keep drifting to one another’s when someone’s trying to give all of us instructions. His fellow drivers seem oblivious, though. And the crew around us are too busy prepping the lights and camera angles to really notice or care. I keep checking the time, wondering how much longer this is going to take. I haven’t been able to work up the nerve to ask him how long he has after the shoot before he gets whisked off to another obligation. I really hate this sometimes.

 

“John, back to ones!” The director yelling at me to start the damn thing over again breaks me from my thoughts and I move back to my starting position for the take. Carl’s standing across the ring from me, preparing to dropkick me off the ring for the 6th or 7th time. His first two or three attempts were painful to watch. The first time he slammed face first to the mat. The second time he landed on his elbows and I thought for sure he broke something. He got better though, and now he’s taking the bumps like a pro…and I should know.

 

“And…ACTION!” The cameras start to roll and Carl walks toward me, a playful spark in his eyes. I’ve seen that look before, right before he pantsed a crew member. Oh god, please don’t do something stupid, Carl. He lifts his hand and I think he’s going to chop me when he smirks and waves it in front of his face. That little shit just stole my signature move! I can’t stop myself. I crack up. Then he cracks up. We’re a giggling mess and everyone around us is groaning and fussing and bitching about having to start over again. We can’t stop, though. I hold my breath in an attempt to calm down but one look at him and our eyes meet and we erupt all over again.

 

“Carl! John! Calm down and get the shot done! We’re running out of time!” The director is obviously annoyed with us but we can’t help it. The tension’s been mounting between us all day trying to keep ourselves under wraps and it’s finally gotten to us. We’re cracking up and we can’t stop. I hop down off the ring and walk behind the cameras, burying my face in my hands as I take a couple deep breaths and finally manage to calm down. Tilt my head from side to side and roll my shoulders a couple times, getting myself back into character. I can do this. I can get through this shot.

 

“Alright, last time guys. Lets get it right and move on!” Pushy fuck. I really hate directors sometimes. I climb back up onto the apron and get into position, watching Carl as they yell action. He walks toward me and the spark is there again. Fuck, John. Keep it straight. Keep it cool. Don’t fucking laugh. God dammit, he did it AGAIN! Watch as he waves his hand in his face and then jumps up to dropkick me. His feet don’t even come close to making contact, but they’re not supposed to. I time the jump and throw myself down onto the folding table set up outside the ring. It cracks perfectly down the middle and aside from a pen jabbing into my ribs, the bump goes smoothly. I stand back up and take a bow as everyone claps and the director yells to go to the next scene.

 

**The shoot wraps after almost twelve hours of work and I sigh in relief. Anymore of this stop and go, hurry up and wait stuff and I may have lost my mind. I walk back to the room that’s been sectioned off as our “dressing room” and shrug out of the top of my fire suit. My t-shirt underneath is soaked with sweat and I pull it off, sighing in relief when the cool air conditioning hits my fevered skin. The door opens behind me and I figure it’s one of the other young guns until I feel a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist, just above where my suit is hanging on my hips. I smile softly and tilt my head to the side as full lips kiss a path along my neck.**

**“That was real funny, you smart ass. Stealing my move like that…” His lips brush my ear as he talks in a whisper to me, “Nearly cracked up again when you did it that second time. Was going to body slam you right through the canvas if we had to start over again…” His voice is deep and gruff, full of playfulness. His hands move to rest on my hips, nudging the suit down a bit so it slips over my thighs. I bite my lip softly and lean back against him, fully aware that at any moment, anyone could come barging into the room and catch us. I can’t find it in me to care, though.**

**“Mm…couldn’t help myself. I was so damn bored…” Tilt my head to the side as his kisses continue and move my hands over his, our fingers lacing together. It’s been way, way too long since we’ve had a chance to be this close. God, I miss him touching me. I miss the feel of his body against mine, just as strong and firm as my own. I think that’s part of what makes him feel so familiar to me, so comfortable. I lean my head back against his shoulder, letting my eyes drift close as he kisses along my jaw, nibbling and sucking in all the right places.**

**“John…we shouldn’t…not here…” I have to force the words out, because really I don’t want this to stop. Not now. Not ever. We have to though, and we both know it. This is far too delicate a situation to get caught. I swallow thickly and pull away from him reluctantly, turning to face him, “I’ve got a couple hours before I need to fly out…do you…would you…” The look on his face is breaking my heart into tiny little pieces. He misses me just as much as I miss him and neither of us are handling the distance very well.**

“Oh, fuck it.” In an instant, Carl’s pressed against me, his arms wrapped tight around my neck as he kisses me hard and deep. I’m taken by surprise, but I’m not going to shove him off to ask him what’s gotten into him. It’s been so long, I’m just gonna go with it. I wrap my arms around his lean torso and crush him tighter against me as I kiss him back, our tongues sliding out to meet halfway in a searing kiss. God, I missed this. Missed it so bad it hurt.

 

After several long minutes we finally part lips and he looks into my eyes adoringly, “I can cancel my appointments for tomorrow. It’s nothing important anyway, just a couple of fittings for my new fire suits and those can wait another day or two. I miss you John. Miss you so much I can’t take being away from you for another two fucking weeks. This sucks. It sucks bad.” The emotion is clear as day on his face and I grip him tighter, barely able to contain the joy rushing through me at the prospect of having an entire day with him.

 

“I’m off for a couple of days. We can go back to my place tonight and spend the day there tomorrow. Not leave the house until it’s absolutely necessary and then maybe I can come with you to wherever it is you need to go until I have to be at the next filming…” Suddenly, my life seems so much better. My mood’s lifting and I can feel the sick feeling in my stomach dissipating. I don’t have to leave him yet. We have some more time to be together. More time to cling to one another.

 

“Sounds good, John. Sounds amazing.” His trademark smile breaks out across his face and it’s near blinding. It’s also contagious and I can’t keep a grin of my own from spreading across my own face. God, we’re so pathetic sometimes.


	8. Worlds Collide

**Congrats Champ. Gold looks good on you.**

**I keep reading the text message over and over, the smile on my face broadening every time my eyes fall on the words. I wish he could have been here tonight to see me win this one in person, but I’ll deal. I’ve been dealing since our stolen weekend after the Gillette commercial, after all. He’s in Illinois tonight, house show for Raw. From what he told me this morning, it should be a quick show. Said he’d be watching from the dressing room or wherever he happened to be while it was on. He wasn’t lying either. The text was waiting for my by the time I got to my mom in Victory Lane. In fact, it was the first new text in my inbox.**

**I couldn’t help mentioning him in Victory Lane. The minute they handed me the belt, his face popped into my head and I felt the butterflies flapping around in my stomach. God, it’s incredible how happy he makes me. I remember smiling and telling Matt how John could borrow my belt until he won his back at Wrestlemania…or something like that. I was so excited to win again that I can’t really remember most of what I said. It’s a wonder no one’s picked up on us yet. Not even my mom, and she’s usually the first person to figure it out when I’ve got a crush on someone. I’m not worried about her finding out either. I know that no matter who I date, she’ll still love me. She’s been by my side since I was a kid, and John’s…not the first man I’ve been with. I already know she would welcome him into the family with open arms. I just want to enjoy this being our little secret for a little while longer.**

***

 

The elation is clear on my face as I stand in front of the tiny TV in the locker room I’m sharing with the rest of the WWE’s Raw talent. Carl just won his second race in a row, and he’s just back flipped off his car as usual. He looks so happy. He’s smiling and beating on his car, and fist pumping like crazy. I’ve already texted him to congratulate him, and were it not so crowded in the locker room, I would have called to leave him a congratulatory voicemail too. The text will have to do for now, though. I’ve already gotten enough strange looks from some of the other guys. None of them seem to understand my newfound obsession with NASCAR. They all look at it as another ridiculous promotion to keep track of, but it’s so much more than that. I made so many friends doing the show with them in May. Friends, and…so much more.

 

I smile and go back to the space on the floor where I’d been stretching before Carl took the checkers. I spread myself out and work on stretching my pecs, using all the exercises my therapist gave me for when I’m on the road. I’ve been babying my chest quite a bit since my injury. The last thing I need is to wind up on the injured list again. As it was, I came back entirely too early and I’ve been paying the price every night in my hotel room with a bag of ice and a couple Tylenol. Never mind that, though. Right now I need to concentrate on tonight’s main event. I’m one on one with Mark Henry for what seems like the hundredth time in weeks. I love working with him, but man. I could use a shake up in the routine from time to time. I’m so sick of the same thing night after night. Having a match and then having Randy get involved somehow. Or having Hunter jump in on the action. It’s all getting so predictable. I need spontaneity.

***

 

**After finishing up my press conference in the media center, and making a couple of phone calls, I head back to my coach to change and get myself together for my flight home. I’ve already spoken with my mom and told her I needed to make a stop on the way home. That I probably wouldn’t be back in Charlotte until Monday night or Tuesday morning. I have some things I need to take care of tonight. She was more than understanding and hunted down Jack for a ride back home. Luckily, he was incredibly accommodating and said there was plenty of room on the team jet for her. I feel bad when I ditch my mom like that, but tonight…tonight I just…I have to do this. I need to do this.**

**It didn’t take much to get my flight plan changed. A call or two to the right people and my flight pattern was set, coordinates and information all wired into my plane’s computer so I’d be able to go without a hitch. I absolutely love having my pilot’s license. Love the freedom that comes with having my very own plane to take me when and where I want or need to be whenever I want to be there. Tonight is definitely one of those nights, and the butterflies in my stomach increase in number and size as I climb into the cockpit and ready myself for my flight. Check all my gauges, contact the control tower, strap myself in, and it’s off I go. Down the runway, up into the clear dark Nevada sky, high up over the desert and into the stars. Night flights are probably my favorite thing to do. Being up here where it’s so vast and empty, nothing but some clouds to keep me company…I can really let my mind go and relax. Especially when I’ve had a particularly rough day.**

***

 

The show went off flawlessly, as usual. Finished up about an hour ago and after stopping to greet some fans who were waiting patiently outside the arena, I hopped into my rental to head back to the hotel. I’d like to leave for Indianapolis tonight, but Vince went and booked this trip for us, so that means getting on a plane tomorrow morning to fly out with the rest of the crew. Something about wanting to have a meeting with the entire roster before show time. It probably has to do with something for Wrestlemania. We’ve been having more and more of these powwows the closer we get to the big show. It’s less than a month away now and the entire company is buzzing with excitement. No matter how long you’ve been a part of this business, it never gets less exciting. Even the older guys, like Ric Flair and Mark Calloway turn into giddy little kids when Mania time comes around.

 

I get up to my floor and yawn softly as I make my way down the hall to my hotel room. My bag feels heavy on my arm, my feet dragging over the thick carpet, brain fried from a lack of sleep and running on a half tank all day. Usually I’m wired after shows, bouncing around like a lunatic and knocking on doors until I find someone to hang out with for a couple hours. Tonight, though…I just want my bed. I want to get naked and crawl under the covers and sleep right up until my wake up call tomorrow morning. There’s a tinge of sadness eating at my gut and I know it’s because I miss Carl. The thought of calling him crossed my mind on the way back to the hotel, but he’s probably in the air right now, flying himself home to Charlotte.

***

 

**“JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY!” The look on John’s face when he swings open the door and sees me sitting in the armchair across the room is priceless. At first, it’s sheer shock at there being someone in his room. Then confusion at just why, exactly, there’s someone in his room. The confusion turns to surprise, which quickly turns into utter joy when his brain finally clicks on just who’s in his room. I grin at him and push myself up, meeting him halfway as he bolts over to me. We wrap one another up in a bear hug and I breathe in deeply, taking in his scent as I feel him doing the same. God, it’s been way too long since we’ve been together.**

**“Carl, what’re you doing here?! You should be home right now! Or partying it up in Vegas! Shit man, you won tonight! Why are you in the middle of nowhere?!” He pulls back to look at me, unable to hide the happiness I know he’s feeling. His smile reaches all the way to sparkling blue eyes that I know mirror my own and there’s a giddiness in his voice, one that makes my knees weak. I smile and shake my head and lean in to kiss him softly, “I’m here because I miss you, dummy. I want to be with you. Want to celebrate with you.”**

***

 

Celebrate. He wants to celebrate. With me. He flew all the way out here just to spend the night with me and let me join in on the festivities. My heart swells with emotion and my face starts to hurt from all the smiling I’m doing. This man amazes me more and more everyday that he’s in my life. He’s really so incredible. Then it clicks in my mind. The belt. He won his very own “championship” belt. I know exactly how I want to help him celebrate that fact, too. It’s only fitting, and I think he’ll enjoy it.

 

“Say, Carl…” I rub my nose against his and smooth my hands down his sides, reveling in the feel of his taught muscles fluttering under my touch. I tilt my head forward to kiss up his neck, nibbling at the tender spot just under his ear, my stomach doing little flip-flops when he whimpers softly into my ear. Feel the muscles in his neck roll under flushed skin as he swallows thickly, his hands working their way under my shirt and along the span of my back. He breathes in sharply when I nibble on his earlobe, “Yeah, John?”

***

 

**John’s eyes are sparkling with mischief when he straightens up so he can look at me dead on and it’s setting my insides on fire. Whatever it is he has in mind, I’ll go along with it, just as long as he keeps looking at me like he is right now. He wiggles his eyebrows at me and slips a hand down to my ass, resting it in my back pocket, “Did you bring that belt with you?”**

**His question catches me off guard but I nod in response, “Yeah, yeah of course I did. It’s in my bag, over there on the floor by the desk…” I motion to where my duffel bag is laying next to his and his eyes darken with lust. The fire in my gut is growing, a pleasantly familiar ache forming in my groin and I can’t help but wonder where his mind is going. He gives my ass a squeeze and kisses my neck again and I swear if he doesn’t stop my knees are going to buckle.**

**His breath is warm on my ear when he speaks again, “See…in wrestling…there’s this tradition. When you win a title…you celebrate. Normal enough, right?” I nod, my eyes drifting closed as his other hand moves to cup me through my jeans, “We don’t just go out and party though…whoever wins the belt…they get to take it home…carry it around all the time, because it’s theirs…so, usually, what happens is…” He squeezes me tighter and I can’t help moaning his name. He’s got me so damn worked up right now I don’t even want to hear his little story. I just want him to fuck me.**

***

 

My name on his lips is just about all it takes to completely turn me on and I have to fight hard to keep control. I want him so bad I’m ready to skip all the foreplay and just shove him down onto the bed. I can’t though. I want to do this right. I kiss a path along his jaw before continuing, “Story goes…when you win the title, you get to fuck whoever the hell you want while you’re wearing it the night you win it…” His body trembles and I know I’ve got him. I know I’m going to get exactly what I want, and that’s him spread out beneath me with that shiny new belt fastened around his waist while I bury myself inside of him and take him over and over.

 

“Fuck, John, just get the damn thing out of my bag and put it on me. Fuck me. Please, for the love of all that’s holy don’t make me wait any longer…” his voice is full of need as he begs me, his nails digging into my arms as he grinds himself shamelessly against the hand gripping his cock through his jeans. There has never been a sexier man in all the world, of that I’m entirely sure. I let go of him and go to get his new trophy from the Office Depot bag on the floor next to my own and smirk softly when not only do I find the belt, but a bottle of lube as well.

***

 

**The unfiltered lust blazing in John’s eyes when he turns back around and sees me naked and stretched out on the hotel bed is enough to make me come. I bite my lip softly and taunt him silently, reaching a hand down to trace my fingers over my cock, whimpering softly at the way my cool fingers feel on the white hot skin. He growls deep in his throat and comes back to the bed, his clothes shed off on the way over to me. Without a word he’s on top of me, his lips planted hard against my own in a scorching kiss that has me clinging to him desperately, arching my body up off the mattress to press against his. Fuck, I want him so bad it hurts.**

**When he finally pulls away, he tugs me up to a sitting position and wraps the belt around my waist, fastening it and then leaning back to admire his work. I smirk softly and lean back on my hands, watching him as his eyes tear over my body. The leather strap is cool on my skin, quickly warming up from the body heat coming off me in waves. It’s heavier around my waist than it felt when I was holding it in Victory Lane. The lights over the bed reflect off the gold plate and spray across his face, accenting his chiseled features perfectly. My eyes move over his body hungrily, taking in the way his cock is as hard as my own, jutting out obscenely from his body, the head already a deep shade of red and dripping with precum. Feel the desire wash over me tenfold and lick my lips as I start to beg for him again.**

***

 

I wish I could capture this all on film. Carl’s perfect form spread out beneath me, the belt around his waist adding to the sex appeal in ways I can’t even put into words. The begging, the pleading, the look of desperation on his face…fuck I might come before I’m even inside him if I don’t stop this. I snatch the lube up off the mattress where I’d tossed it in my hurry to get the belt on him and pop it open, squeezing enough into my palm to slick myself up. The sensation of my hand on my cock sends a jolt of electricity through me and I know if I don’t take him NOW I’m going to lose my mind.

 

“JOHN!” Carl’s shouts echoes off the walls as I thrust into him quickly, burying myself inside of him. The white hot heat surrounding me sends a new wave of lust through my body and I moan loudly as I rock my hips against him. His legs wrap around my waist, one arm tight around my neck as the other goes up over his head, gripping the headboard tight for leverage as he lifts himself up into every thrust. His legs crush our bodies together and the feel of the belt rubbing against my abs is heaven on Earth. It’s cold and rough, the exact opposite of his hot, smooth skin where our chests are crushed together.

***

 

**It definitely does not get any better than this. John’s the only man I’ve ever let fuck me. I’ve always been the one on top, the one doing the pitching, but with him…I don’t know, I guess I just feel safe with him. It’s a pretty big help that he’s so damn good at this, too. His cock feeling amazing buried in my ass, his lips all over my skin as he takes me so perfectly. My nails rake down his back and over the smooth curve of his ass, my hips coming up to meet every one of his thrusts. The belt is digging into my back, but it doesn’t hurt. It feels good, to be honest. The smooth leather and hard metal are a stark contrast to his body and all the different sensations are overwhelming. It’s no wonder the wrestlers do this every time they win a damn title. I might have to do this every time I win a race. To hell with the backflips, just give me a belt and a bed.**

**“Carl…Good god damn…” His voice is thick with lust and I shudder beneath him as he moans my name over and over. He’s close, and so am I. Every perfectly aimed thrust brings me that much closer to release and I wrap myself around him, clinging to him for all he’s worth as my body starts to tense up, my orgasm quickly approaching. It’s when his lips come crashing down on mine that I finally lose all control and moan loudly into his mouth as I come, arching up off the bed as he buries himself inside of me. My nails dig little half moons into his shoulder blades and my body rocks with the force of my orgasm, shuddering blissfully as I feel him exploding deep inside of me.**

***

 

I bury my face in his neck, resting heavily on top of him in my post-orgasmic state. We’re both panting and shaking as the last tiny shockwaves course through our bodies and I can feel the engraving on the belt digging into my stomach. Good, just what I needed; my stomach a NASCAR billboard. It takes some effort but I finally manage to pull myself away from him, collapsing onto my back next to him. Tilt my head to the side to look at him, smiling softly when our eyes meet and all I can see in the aqua depths is deep adoration and contentment. He squirms around to get the belt off and tosses it in the general direction of the desk before curling up against me, his head on my chest as he hooks a leg around my own and drapes an arm over my torso. My arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers coming up to play with sweaty hair.

 

We lay together in comfortable silence for what seems like hours before Carl manages to push himself up onto his side, resting his head on his hand so he can look down at me. I stretch lazily, arms up over my head and back arched before plopping back down and yawning. Our eyes meet and I quirk an eyebrow, “Something wrong, Carl? You’ve got that deep thinking look going on.” He shrugs and chews on his bottom lip and I know something’s bothering him. I’ve seen that look before and it worries me. Push myself up onto my side so our gazes are even and nudge him gently, trying to coax it out of him, “C’mon now, since when do you withhold from me, huh?”

***

 

**I smile softly at John’s concern and shrug my shoulder noncommittally, “It’s…nothing, really. I think. I don’t know, it could be something but I’m trying not to think about it.” The look on his face gets more intense and I frown. I didn’t want him to worry. “Really, it’s just something with the car. There was a part out of place in post-race inspection. NASCAR’s taking the car to their research facility to check it out. It’s nothing. Most they can do is dock us points and a couple thousand dollars. Possibly take my crew chief away if they see fit but it’s probably nothing.” I try to sound convincing, but really…I’m nervous. My career so far has been free of any real drama and I’d like to keep it that way. Ever since I got Bob’s message when I landed here in Illinois, I’ve been bouncing between worrying and enjoying the win.**

**John’s arms wrap around me and pull me back down against him. He rubs my back soothingly, but doesn’t say a word. I love it when he does this. When he finds ways to calm me down without even having to open his mouth. He just holds onto me and rocks me gently, his body language doing all the talking for him. It’s going to be okay, he’s saying, don’t worry about it and just sleep for now. Bask in the afterglow and then worry about it when you actually know something. At least…that’s what I imagine he’d say. For all I know his mind’s already on tomorrow’s Raw script.**


	9. Waiting on the World to Change

**Easter has always been my favorite holiday. The egg dying and egg hunting, the Easter baskets filled with candy and toys. I loved waking up early on Easter morning, getting all dressed up, and meeting the entire family at church. It was the one day a year, aside from Christmas, that we even though about going, and I never understood it. Church meant an awesome brunch buffet after though, so I never complained. Brunch was always fun, full of laughter and excitement, trash talk about who would find the most eggs, but most of all it was a time when everyone was together and happy. That always meant the most to me. I loved looking around the table and seeing all my aunts, uncles, and cousins talking and eating. I loved how my grandparents beamed so proudly at the family they’d created together. It made me proud to be a part of it.**

**We don’t get together like that anymore. My grandparents passed years ago. My cousins all grew up and moved away. I got submerged in my racing career. Last year, had it not been for the off week, I wouldn’t even have realized it was Easter at all. It was a phone call from my mom to wish me a “Happy Bunny Day” that made me realize just how little meaning the holiday has for me now, and that realization turned me into a bitter old man for two minutes. Then I decided I’d made the next year’s Easter a good one, make it really count.**

**Which is where John comes into the equation. I’d wanted to celebrate with him this year. Spend a couple days together, maybe even dye eggs like a couple of big kids, just for old time’s sake. What I hadn’t counted on was him having plans with his own family. I was completely let down. Another Easter was going to go by without me.**

**And then he invited me out to West Newbury to spend the holiday with them.**

 

I don’t know what I was thinking, inviting Carl to spend Easter with my family. They’re going to figure out what’s going on between us and then the entire day will go to hell. He’ll hate me for it, realize he’s wasting his time with me, and I’ll never see him again. I’ll lose him and have no one but myself to blame for being a big enough idiot to have invited him in the first place. My family is incredibly old fashioned and behind the times. Sure, my parents support me and say they’ve got my back “no matter what”, but I doubt that includes being in love with a dude. Hell, they all but disowned my cousin Kenny when he showed up as Kiki two Christmases ago.

 

Oh who am I kidding? They cracked up and congratulated him…her?…on finding happiness. I’m just a paranoid jerk. I’m nervous and self-conscious and deep down I’m just terrified that they won’t get along and Carl will realize he wants nothing to do with me. Maybe my brothers will give him a hard time and hurt his feelings. What is mom disapproves of his career choice or something?

 

Fuck, I’m doing it again. Never in my life have I ever been nervous to bring someone home to meet the family. I’ve dated girls I knew my family would hate, but took home anyway. I’ve always found a way to warm my parents up to even the worst girlfriends. This shouldn’t be any different. Even if Carl has the same equipment as me. Even if I’ve suddenly realized my soul mate is-

 

HERE.

 

**John’s parents live in a modest ranch house on a piece of property that would make most people jealous. The lawn is perfect, the porch is quaint, and the closer I get to the front door the more I can understand why John loves it here so much. The air is chilled with the last breath of winter, but the trees and flowers are still fighting to come into bloom. Back home in Missouri, this was my favorite time of year. It’s like the world is waking up all over again, stretching its legs and yawning.**

**The front door flies open before I can even reach for the bell and I’m met by a short woman with a warm round face, lit up with a smile I recognize as John’s. He and his mother look unmistakably alike. I return her smile and adjust my duffle bag before sticking my hand out to her politely, “Hi, Mrs. Cena. I’m-”**

**“Carl! How are you sweetheart?” She disregards my hand and instead pulls me into a welcoming hug, “John’s been wearing a hole in the rug waiting for you.” She ushers me into the house and shocks me with the volume her tiny body musters up as she yells, “JOHN! Your friend’s here!” She must notice the look on my face because she laughs, “Raise a bunch of boys and you learn to be heard.”**

**I smile softly, remembering my own mom getting loud a time or two. I follow her down the front hall into a spacious living room, where I’m nearly knocked onto the floor by one very happy John Cena. Laughing, I return his overzealous hug, noting the way he holds on a second longer than would be appropriate for friends. It makes me wonder if he’s told his parents about us already, but when he pulls away and introduces me as his “buddy Carl” I know they’re still in the dark. Not that I mind. I haven’t even told my mom yet.**

 

As nervous as I was about my family meeting Carl, it all melted away the minute I laid eyes on him. He was all smiles with my mom, blending into the house like he belonged here. It’s as I’m introducing him to my dad and brothers that it dawns on me. I WANT him to belong here. I’m so head over heels for this guy that I might somehow cease to exist if he doesn’t mesh perfectly with the Cenas. The thought makes my head spin and I have to sit down, continuing to watch as Carl interacts with my family. It’s really no surprise that they’re getting along. My fears and worries were ridiculous. He’s Carl, after all, and there isn’t a person on the planet he can’t get along with. It’s one of his best qualities.

 

“Johnboy, why don’t you show Carl where he can put his things?” My mom gives me a bright smile and I nod, pushing myself up off the couch. He’s staying in my room, naturally, and I’ve strategically planned it out so no cot or air mattress would be available so we’d be “forced” to share my tiny full sized bed. I barely fit on the damn thing, so it’ll be more than easy to get away with snuggling up at night without seeming obvious. My brothers are notorious for rude awakenings, so I wasn’t taking any chances.

 

As we enter my childhood bedroom, I can’t help but wonder if Carl expects me to tell my family about us this weekend. Is he here with the idea that this is going to turn into a big coming out party? Will he be disappointed with me if it’s not? It’s not that I don’t want to tell my family. I do want to fill them in eventually. I’m just nervous. Not sure how to go about it. I’ve never let on to them that I like guys. In fact, before Carl, I never DID like guys. I was straight as an arrow. So finding the words to tell them I’m suddenly in love with a man is proving difficult.

 

“John? Everything okay?” His concerned voice cuts into my train of thought and for the first time since he showed up I take a good look at Carl. He looks spectacular, as always: clean shaven, hair messed just right, clothes neat and casual. He’s looking at me through slightly-squinted eyes, one brow arched inquisitively.

 

**“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just happy you’re here, you know? Feels like it’s been ages. Have to admit, I’m relived you and my family hit it off so well. Do you think we should tell them?” John’s words come out in a rush and I can’t keep the smile off my face at how innocent and childlike he seems. He’s completely overwhelmed and it’s so endearing. Here I thought I’d be the nervous one and he’d be the one in complete control. So much for that thought.**

**“One thing at a time, buddy. For now let me get settled in. Let me get to know your family a little better. If you really want to tell them, we can, but that’s probably not a bomb we should drop five minutes after I walked in the door, you know?” I can’t help chuckling at the look of relief that passes over his face. I had a feeling he wasn’t quite ready to tell them yet, and frankly I wasn’t either. I mean, I want to eventually, but making everything awkward from the get-go is less than appealing.**

**The room seems to brighten with that weight off our chests and I look around at my new surroundings. We’re in John’s old room and it shows. There’s posters of various rap artists on the walls, wrestling memorabilia everywhere. Action figures line shelf after shelf, one wall is stacked high with CD’s, vinyl’s, cassettes, and even some eight tracks. The whole room screams his name, smells of him and reaches out to embrace me. A pleasant warmth runs through me as I look at him and smile, “So this is where little Johnboy grew up, huh?”**

**He gives me a magnificent smile and nods, obviously proud of his little piece of domain in the giant house, “Yeah, this is where the magic happened. Boyhood dreams, groundings for setting things on fire, all that good stuff. C’mon, I’ll take you on a tour of the house.” He motions to the door and I follow him out, eager to see what he rest of his family’s home looks like.**

 

It’s amazing to watch how easily Carl blends in with my brothers, sister-in-laws and parents. It’s like he’s known them his entire life the way they all interact. The longer he’s in my house, the more at ease I find myself becoming. The longer he’s within reach of me, the harder it gets to keep my hands off of him. Usually, when we’re in close proximity we’re alone and I can grab him without thinking about it. I’ll pull him onto my lap or wrap my arms around his waist. Anything just to touch him. It’s taking a lot of concentration to remember that we’re still very much in the closet.

 

“Uncle Jooooohhhn!!” My nephew, Tyler, tugs on my sleeve when he realizes I’ve completely skipped out on the conversation he was trying to have with me. Tyler is five and the spitting image of my sister-in-law; bright red hair, freckles all over, and big green eyes that shine with the mischief of a Cena. Seeing that my attention is back on him, he grins wide and flexes his arm at me, “Check out this gun, Uncle John! It’s almost as big as yours!” He holds his arm out to me proudly, insisting I feel it to see just how rock solid it is. I can hear Carl to my right, chuckling as I humor my nephew.

 

“That’s some bicep you got there, Tyler. Couple more pushups and you’ll be able to knock me out someday!” I give him a wink and he beams with pride, running back over to my brother to tell him of his latest triumph. I look back over at Carl, laughing as he pokes fun at me good naturedly. I give him a playful shove and he laughs, shoving me back quickly. It’s so easy to relax around him, even if we’re surrounded by family members who have no idea just how close we actually are.

 

A blinding flash goes off from across the room and I look up in time to see that my mom’s snapped a picture of Carl and I wrestling around on the couch. I blush and duck my head, but regain my senses quickly. She wants to take pictures? I’ll give her something to take pictures of. I smirk and she must see the look on my face because she quickly lifts the camera back up, readying herself for the next shot. Without any warning, I pounce on Carl and get him in a headlock, nuggying him for all he’s worth. He lets out a surprised yelp and then starts to laugh and squirm under me, trying to get out of my grip.

 

The flash goes off a few more times, and a cheer from one of my relatives distracts me enough that Carl manages to slip out of my headlock and get me in one of his own. I laugh and trash talk, wriggling around as he gives me a nuggy or two of his own as payback. Mom snaps a few more pictures and I smile to myself. I really love the fact that she’s taken to him so well. We horse around a little longer before settling back down again, both of us disheveled and cracking up. My second sister-in-law makes a crack about us being overgrown frat boys and in perfect unison we thank her, look at one another, and crack up all over again.

 

**At the end of the night, after everyone’s gone off to bed, John and I head into his room, closing the door behind us. I couldn’t be having a better time than I am right now. I don’t think being with my family could be as much fun or enjoyable as this. John’s family is incredible, every last one of them is funny and entertaining, witty and mischievous. It’s easy to see where he gets it from. I watch him as he putters around the room, getting ready for bed. He pulls his shirt off and drops it on the floor as he rummages through his dresser for something to wear to bed. I take the moment to watch him, enjoying the view for as long as possible.**

**When he turns back to me, gym shorts in hand, he catches my gaze and arches an eyebrow, “Like what you see, Carl?” He gives me a knowing smirk and flexes his pecs at me before unfastening his belt and beginning to undo his jeans. I lick my lips, unable to tear my eyes off of him. This is dangerous territory, even if the door is closed.**

**“John…” I swallow thickly, unable to move as he drops his pants and steps out of them, standing across the room from me completely in the buff. My eyes rake down his body, my own body responding quickly. I feel the familiar ache forming low in my stomach and bite down on my lip, “John, we…you…fuck you’re such a tease…” I keep my voice low, in case someone should happen by the door.**

**“Mm…I am, huh?” He shoots me a devious look, stepping closer to me, “I’m a terrible, horrible, dirty tease…” He comes in closer, his voice dangerously low, “Look at me, standing here completely naked…turning you on…and we can’t do a thing about it…” He steps closer still, until we’re within reach of one another and my eyes lock on his briefly, before moving down his body. It’s when I see his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking and teasing himself that I lose all control.**

 

Without warning, Carl pounces on me, shoving me back onto the bed as he kisses me roughly, my face caught between his hands. I moan softly against his lips, wrapping my arms around him to pull him in tighter against me. I want him, so fucking bad, but I know we can’t do this. Not here. Not now. Not with my family across the hall and down the hall and all over the house. I grab fistfuls of his shirt, pulling on it, yanking at it, fighting to get it off of him until he finally pulls back and yanks it off himself. Our eyes lock again and I know that it doesn’t matter who’s in the house. The Pope could be downstairs serving communion and it wouldn’t make a difference.

 

Carl leans back in and starts to kiss along my neck, biting and sucking and nibbling all over my skin. I gasp and whimper, squirming beneath him. I’m already turned on, have been since the second my bedroom door closed. Possibly longer. His hot, delicious mouth all over my body is almost too much to take. I grab onto him again, nails raking over his skin, fingers running through his hair, never able to get enough of him in my grasp. Before I can even realize what’s going on, he’s between my legs and suddenly my cock is enveloped in the hot, wet ecstasy that is his mouth. I bite down hard on my lip, clapping a hand over my mouth to muffle the moan that comes rumbling out of me and he chuckles around my cock, sending mind-blowing vibrations through me.

 

I’ve gotten plenty of blowjobs in my life, but never from another guy. Had I realized how much better men are at this kind of thing, I may have gone gay a long time ago. Carl’s mouth works over my length expertly, sucking and licking in all the right places. His teeth graze over my skin ever-so-lightly, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through my veins. One of my hands moves down to his head, fingers curling around his hair as he works me over, sucking harder the tighter I hold on. I’ve got practically my entire fist in my mouth, no easy feat considering its size, in a feeble attempt to keep quiet. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.

 

He doesn’t make me wait long to find out. Before I can start to beg him for it, he’s speeding up, sucking harder, a hand slipping down to join in on the fun. It’s when he slips a finger into my ass that I lose all control. I bite down hard on my knuckles, my fingers digging into his scalp as I scream my release around my hand. I’m surprised when he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he swallows me down, not letting a drop of cum get wasted. He pulls back slowly, licking me clean as I pant and shake, eyes squeezed shut as I try and recover.

 

**My scalp is throbbing, my jaw is sore, and I’m pretty sure he yanked some of my hair out, but fuck it was all worth it to hear him coming. I crawl back up next to him, stretching out on my side as I watch John, spent and sated on his back. His breathing is still a little shallow, his face is flushed and there’s a thin layer of sweat glistening off his body. The sight of him is making me harder than I already am, my cock pressing painfully against the zipper of my jeans. I push myself up and slip out of them before plopping back down on the bed, laughing softly when he cracks one eye open and looks up at me, an “I just came” smile on his face.**

**I return his smile and run my fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead softly. “Jesus, John. You look like you’ve never gotten head before,” I tease, ruffling his hair a little. It’s true, too. He looks equal parts shocked and post-orgasmic. While it’s an adorable look on him, it’s also got my curiosity purring. I’m not THAT good at giving head, am I? Or is he just surprised at my tiny bit of talent in the area?**

**“No…definitely not the first time…” He shakes his head a little, rolling onto his side to face me, “Well, actually it is, yeah. From a guy, anyway. Of course, had I known how much better guys are at sucking dick, I may have taken up one of the boys when he offered a few months back.” He laughs at the obvious surprise on my face, “Oh c’mon, like you don’t know how good you are at that?”**

**“Actually…I don’t. No one’s ever critiqued me before,” I can feel the blush creeping across my face at his compliment. It takes quite a bit to embarrass me, but hell, I’ve never had anyone compliment my sexual prowess before. It’s flattering and somewhat embarrassing to have someone tell me how good I am at getting them off.**

 

The look on his face and the way he falls silent give me no choice but to believe him. Apparently, whoever he’s been with before me wasn’t kind enough to let him in on what a good job he was doing for them. Bit of a shame, I think. He really deserves to know. I watch him a moment longer before leaning in to kiss him softly, cupping his cheek in my hand to hold him close. He kisses me back hungrily and it’s only when he scoots in a little closer that I realize he’s still incredibly hard and I really should do something about it. Pay him back, somehow. I doubt my technique will be up to par with his, but hell it’s my first time and I’m sure he’ll take that into account.

 

I start to inch my way down his body, leaving kisses along his skin and when I make it down to his hip he suddenly seems to realize what my intentions are and starts to protest a little, trying to stop me in my tracks, “John…John you don’t…” I glance up at him and our eyes meet. He’s being sincere, but I don’t care. I want to do this for him. He licks his lips and runs his fingers through my hair, “John just because I did…don’t…don’t think you have to do this…”

 

I shake my head and place a kiss on his hipbone, “I know I don’t have to, Carl. I want to.” He seems fine with my response and ceases protesting, settling back down again. I go back to my task at hand, mustering up every ounce of courage I can find within myself to do this. Granted, I’ve never done this before but I have an idea of how to go about it. After all, I know what works for me and he’s got the same equipment I do, so obviously some of it has to work on him too, right?

**My heart starts pounding in my chest as I watch John after our exchange. It’s easy to see he’s nervous about this, and I don’t blame him in the least. He’s obviously never done this before and I remember how nervous I was my first time. Wondering what the hell I was doing and how, exactly, it all worked. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to keep from gagging. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he finally leans down and tentatively drags his tongue along my head. It sends a thrill shooting through my body and I whimper at the sensation, gripping his comforter in my hands to keep from grabbing at his hair.**

**My reaction seems to soothe some of his fears and he wraps his lips around my head, sucking at it a tiny bit, waiting for my soft moan of a response before continuing to take me in, making it almost halfway before pulling back again. He’s driving me completely insane but I know I can’t push him or rush him. I force myself to think about other things as he continues to test these new waters, doing everything in my power to keep from scaring him off. It’s when he suddenly loses all his inhibitions and begins bobbing his head quickly, sucking me harder than before that my control begins to unravel.**

**“Ohmygod…John…” I hiss under my breath before clapping a hand over my mouth to stifle myself. My response seems to relax him because he lets out a tiny sound of satisfaction around me, which only manages to thrill me even more. I whimper behind my hand, my other fist tightening around the blanket I’m gripping with all my strength. With every passing moment he becomes more and more confident and it’s quickly drawing me to the edge of oblivion.**

 

Seemingly all too soon, Carl’s squirming beneath me, warning me behind his hand in a muffled moan that he’s going to come. I panic for a split second. What do I do? Do I pull back and let him come all over himself? Or should I be a man and swallow? Or…try to, anyway. God only knows what it’s going to taste like and with my luck I’ll wind up gagging and ruining this for the both of us. The last thing I want to do is ruin this. It’s been mediocre, at best, and I don’t want to make it any worse.

 

Unfortunately, my decision is made for me when I spend far too long debating what to do. Suddenly it’s there in my mouth, warm and salty with the tiniest hint of sweetness to it. Surprisingly, it’s not nearly as bad as I’d imagine it would be. I pull back a little when I start to gag, more from it coming faster than I can swallow than the taste of it, only managing to miss a bit which dribbles down my chin. How classy. I wipe it off on the back of my hand and look up at him, expecting him to be looking at me with amusement at how awful I was.

 

Adoration. Lust. Gratefulness, even. There’s not even a hint of disgust on his face when our gazes lock again. We both sit up and he pounces on me, kissing me hard, sending me flying onto my back. This was definitely NOT what I’d been expecting out of him, but I’ll take it. Wrap my arms around him and crush him against myself as we kiss, whimpering softly when his tongue darts out to meet mine. He moves to straddle my waist and I gasp when his cock rubs against my own, the both of us hard again. Definitely not what I’d been expecting.

 

Carl pulls back after a moment, rubbing his nose against mine adoringly, “That…that was…are you sure you’ve never done that before?” He’s part teasing and part serious, but I shake my head no, anyway. He grins and nips my lip, “For a first timer, that was one hell of a blowjob I just got.” I duck my head bashfully and he smiles, kissing me again, “Well you sure fooled me, Cena.”

 

**When I wake up the next morning, John’s wrapped around me territorially and I can’t help but smile. We spent most of the night having one of the most difficult rounds of sex in the history of sex. The walls, he informed me, were paper thin and his bed has a tendency of squeaking at the drop of a hat. We’d had to force ourselves to slow down or quiet down on several occasions, and as a result we’d ended up having equally mind-blowing orgasms from all the stop and go and building up we’d done. Thank god I’d thought to slip a travel case of lube into my bag when I’d packed. While I hadn’t been planning on getting laid in his parents’ house, it’s always a good Idea to have an emergency stash just in case.**

**Out of nowhere, John’s door goes flying open and his nephew, Tyler, and two of his nieces come flying into the room, yelling for us to get up. It’s when they realize the precarious position we’re in that they all stop short and gawk. I elbow John hard in the ribs to wake him up, trying to break free of his iron grip on me. He grunts and sits up, jolting awake when he sees the kids in his room.**

**“Uncle John?” Brittany, the older of his nieces at five-years-old, looks up at him through big blue eyes, wide with curiosity, “Why are you hugging Carl?” She blinks innocently and waits for his answer as Tyler runs screaming from the room. I can hear him as he makes his way downstairs, proclaiming to the house at large that his Uncle John is a queer. I cringe at his choice of words and John frowns, urging the girls to go downstairs.**

 

John looks over at me once the girls leave, chuckling a little, “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?” He pushes himself up and starts getting dressed as if nothing’s wrong and I watch him, surprised. Apparently it’s not a big deal to him that we were just outted by his nephew to his entire immediate family. I roll out of the bed and tug my pants off, trying to decide if he’s just acting apathetic or if it really isn’t a big deal.

 

“John?” Carl puts a hand on my arm and gives me a curious look, “Is everything okay? It’s alright If you’re nervous about this, or upset or something. Honestly, it is. Lord knows we never really discussed telling anyone and…” He drifts off when I pull my arm from his grip and kiss him softly. It’s really not a big deal. I decided as much last night while we were drifting off to sleep. I care about Carl, a whole lot, and I want my family to know. Tyler simply…helped move the process along.

 

“It’s alright, Carl. I want them to know,” he grins wide at my words and kisses my cheek before we pull apart. I take his hand and lead him out the door, only slightly nervous as we come down the stairs and into the rec room where the rest of my family is gathered, watching Tyler as he describes to them what he saw in my bedroom moments before. They’re so caught up in his performance that they don’t even notice Carl and myself until I clear my throat. Carl gives my hand a reassuring squeeze as they all turn to look at us. Tyler is the first to notice our fingers laced together and points in our direction accusingly, “See?! I told you he’s a queer!”

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Carl flinch at Tyler’s choice phrasing and inwardly frown. It’s obvious that he’s still just as sensitive about this as I am and I’m quick to respond, “I’m not a queer, Tyler. I’m gay. We both are…” I swallow thickly as my mouth suddenly runs dry. I’ve never called myself gay out loud before and now I’ve got everyone’s full attention, “Carl, he’s…he’s, uh, my boyfriend.”

 

**John’s grip suddenly increases tenfold on my hand and I wince again, this time at the throbbing in my fingers. Any tighter and he’s sure to break at least one of them. I squeeze back and he seems to realize what he’s doing because his grip loosens a fraction. I glance around at each of his family members, none of them with a readable expression on their face. No one’s fainted or screamed, so maybe we’re okay. Maybe they’re still processing all of this and deciding that it’s okay with them. Maybe John was right and it’s not a big deal after all.**

**His mom is the first to speak, breaking through the deafening silence that’s managed to fill the house, “Well…this is a bit of a surprise, Johnboy…” She seems to speak for everyone as heads start to nod in agreement. I swallow hard and let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding as she continues, “Well…if this is what makes you happy…then sweetheart I’m happy for you. That goes for both of you.” She gives me a pointed look and I can’t help the smile that creeps over my lips.**

**“Thank you, Mrs. Cena…that…that really means a lot to me.” My heart rate slows down to normal as she gets up and hugs us both, kissing me on the cheek and informing me that I can just call her mom. Mrs. Cena is far too formal for her. I nod in response as the rest of the family breaks from their trances and the day continues on as if we’d said nothing at all. Even Tyler doesn’t seem to mind, now that his parents are acting like it’s not a huge deal. We hunt for Easter eggs, trade candy treats, and rustle through baskets of tiny surprises and toys, all of us laughing and acting like one big happy family. John keeps hugging me and kissing me, and no one seems to think twice about it or bat a lash at us. It’s comforting, how they all manage to look past it so easily.**

**Maybe, just maybe, Easter has managed to take on some of the old magic it always cast on me. Maybe everything’s okay after all and I’ve once again found a reason to love this holiday so much. I smile as I watch John with his family, knowing that for now it’s my family, too. We’re all here together, celebrating and laughing, and I know deep down in my gut that everything is going to be okay. This was the hard part, after all. John had to not just come out to them, but get me over with them as well. All I have to do is impress my mother.**


	10. Realize

**It's been years since I've felt this deeply for anyone; so in love and content. The last time I felt this way seems like an eternity ago. I've never been so happy to just curl up on the couch and watch TV with someone's arms around me. It puts me at ease knowing that he's here and he's mine and he's not going to go away. This is it for us…we've found each other and now no one else in the world exists. Even in the middle of a crowd I can only see him and his eyes fall only on me. We're soulmates, two halves of the same coin. We're every disgustingly sappy metaphor out there. I don't know what I’d do without John in my life. It's just not the same without him here with me. I feel empty when we're not together, like there's a part of me missing that I desperately need back in order to survive. To be honest, it scares the crap out of me sometimes. I've fallen so hard and so deep that I don't know if I'll ever come up for air again. My heart and soul are in his big, strong hands to do whatever he wants with and all he has to do is get bored or find someone new and they'll be crushed, crumbled into sand. I don't know if I'd ever recover from such a fatal blow. I don't know that I'd want to go on living without him in my life. How pathetically high school drama is that? How pathetic am I that my life suddenly revolves around another human being like he's my sun? I could kick myself sometimes for acting this way. I'm turning into a woman and it's annoying as it is weird. I've never been like this before. Never put so much of myself into a relationship. I know it's love, but am I IN love?**

 

"Carl? Carl you're doing it again! Wake UP!" I roll over and jab my boyfriend -what a strange concept that is- in the ribs, urging him to wake up. This has been going on for at least three weeks now, him talking in his sleep. At first it was cute, but much like my snoring, it quickly became annoying. It might be hard for him to sleep when I'm sawing wood, but it's impossible for me to sleep when he's babbling on in soliloquies that would put Willy Shakespeare to shame. Even though he's rambling about me, I don't want to hear it when I'm trying to get some much-needed shut eye.

 

"CARL!" Elbow him this time, and he jolts awake, sitting bolt upright in the bed we've been sharing since I went on disability again. I can't help feeling satisfied knowing he's now as awake as I am, probably for good. If I can't sleep, no one can.

 

"John what the hell? What’s the big idea, you big bully?!" He rubs his ribs where I hit him, pouting at me with all his might, "I was SLEEPING, you big jerk!"

 

"Yeah and I was forced to listen to you putter on and on about the intricate web of our relationship while you did! Dude take some drugs for that or something. It's getting old!" I roll over so my back's to him and tug the covers up to my chin. I love Carl to death, but the lack of sleep has turned me into a cranky old man.

 

"Why don't you stick cotton in your ears and deal with the fact that I can’t help it?!" His point finger jabs me in the back with each word. Apparently he's as grumpy as I am. Great, now we'll have a sleep deprived argument and get even less sleep!

 

With a groan I roll back over and grab his hand before he can stab me in the eye, "Carl, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have elbowed you. Seriously, though, can't you do something about the talking? It's getting old, man. I'm never gonna get better if I can't sleep at night."

 

"Whatever," he sighs and lays back down, curling up on his side with some distance between us. Apparently, he's really upset with me.

 

**When I wake up in the morning, there's a throbbing in my ribs and it takes me a few minutes to remember why. I'd been talking in my sleep again, according to John, and elbowing me was the only way to wake me up. Talk about a rude awakening. I thought for sure I’d been shot in my sleep. Roll onto my side and smile softly when I see him already awake, stretched on his back with his hands tucked under his head while he stares out the sunroof. I scoot over and rest my head on his chest, slipping an arm around his massive waist.**

**"Morning sunshine…" his eyes never leave the clear blue sky as one of his arms comes down around me, fingers tracing light circles on my bicep. He looks deep in thought and I don't want to disturb him anymore than I already have so I kiss his chest in response, curling up tighter against him. The steady rhythm of his heart beating, the soothing rise and fall of his chest, the gentle circles his fingers trace on my skin; they all lull me into a feeling of peace. I've never been so content in my life.**

**"I'm starting to think you have no inner monologue," there's laughter in his voice and I blink, looking up at him. He pulls his gaze from the window and meets my obviously confused eyed, "You were talking out loud again, Sparky."**

**I blink in confusion, "No I wasn't! I didn't say a word!" Surely I'd have heard myself talking, wouldn't i? I'd like to think I would…**

**"Did it again," he's laughing now, looking at me with amusement in his bright blue eyes, "We really need to fix your brain, Carl."**

**I blush and bury my face in his chest, "I can't help it. I don't even realize I'm doing it! God, this is SO embarrassing!"**

**He chuckles and rubs my arm, "I won't hold it against you, Sparky. So when do you have to be at the track today? Soon, right?"**

**I frown, cringing at the idea of leaving the warm safety of John's embrace. Especially after the horror of last weekend in Talladega. It's been made painfully clear that several people are pissed at me for the Big One. I don't blame them, but it sucks all the same. It's not a nice feeling having your mistakes shoved in your face over and over. I wonder if Kevin got the note I left on his jet…not my smartest idea, but I was pretty pissed that night. I'll have to talk to him during practice today…**

 

While Carl showers, I slide out of bed and pad my way into the kitchen to make some breakfast. I can tell he's not thrilled to be going to the track, but you have to put the past behind you and keep moving. I move through the kitchen with practiced ease, pulling out everything necessary to make waffles and eggs. The past few weeks have lulled us into a strange sense of domestic partnership. Carl cleans and does laundry, I cook and wash dishes. It's a cool little system we've got going. I've been here so long some of my stuff's moved in as well; clothes, shaving kit, toothbrush. My cars and stuff are still in Florida, but if things keep up like they are, Carl may need a bigger garage.

 

"What's cooking, sexy?" Smile softly as Carl's arms slide around my waist, his lips brushing along my shoulders. I lean against him a little, not taking my eyes off the over easy eggs frying on the stove while he rubs my sides. This has all become so comfortable, it seems weird to imagine not having it.

 

"Waffles and eggs, Mr. Edwards. Now go sit, you're hindering my process," I chuckle as he huffs at me and throws himself down in his usual chair, "Hey I could let these eggs burn, if that's what you want…"

 

He grumbles a response and I fight to keep a frown off my face. Ever since last weekend, he's been dreading today. His teammates haven't stopped giving him hell and I'm sure the others are no different. "It'll be fine, Carl…" I set a plate of steaming hot waffles and eggs in front of him, along with a syrup and a glass of OJ before joining him with an identical plate of my own. He gives me a grateful smile, but says nothing, just digs into his food. I watch him as I eat, easily reading the worried crease in his forehead and tension in his posture. Today's going to be rough on him.

 

**"Kevin, hey man. Can I talk to you?" I've been trying to get a minute alone with Harvick all day so we can discuss Talladega, but it's been crazy. When rain finally cancelled track activity, I made the two stall walk to where he was hanging out with his Nationwide team. He gives me a suspicious look before sliding his shades off, asking me what I want. Not quite the reception I was hoping for, but I go into a rehearsed apology about the wreck. I can feel him rolling his eyes at me behind the shades he's put back on, but before I can say anything about it, he turns and starts to walk away.**

**"Kevin! Hey, wait a minute!" Put my hand on his shoulder to stop him and, fast as lightning, he pivots on his heel and shoves me HARD. Caught off guard, I stumble back and before I can right myself he's on me again, sending me flying back onto the hood of his Nationwide car. I can feel the metal give way under me, the momentum of my fall giving me enough force to leave a huge dent in the hood.**

**Something inside me snaps and I shove myself up, flying at him in full-blown fight mode. I can hear people shouting around us, can hear the commotion stirring in the garage as I go to choke him out, but it's all muffled by my blood pounding in my ears. Go to dive at him again, but he's being restrained by some crew members and I'm suddenly unable to move. It takes me a second to realize there's arms around my neck; someone's got me in a headlock. This is ridiculous. All I wanted to do was apologize. Silently count to ten and let whoever's holding me know I'm okay. The arms let me go and I straighten up, surprised to see it was Kevin's driver holding me back. Without a word, I walk back to my garage stall, rubbing a now throbbing elbow. So much for taking the high road.**

 

I can't believe it when Carl comes home covered in bruises. My first thought is that he wrecked hard in the Nationwide race or something, but he would have called me if he had. No, something had to have happened out of the car. It takes me nearly half an hour to get it out of him, and when he finally explains, a strange protective feeling comes over me. Carl is more than capable of taking care of himself, but part of me doesn't like the idea of someone pushing him around. I seethe in anger as I pack for Australia. I have to cohost the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards, but leaving him right now is less than appealing.

 

I never realized just how much I cared for this man until now. That might be the biggest revelation of my life. I stop midway through cramming a shirt in my bag and look over at Carl, where he's curled up on the bed watching me. Our eyes meet and I don't even have to say a word. He already knows exactly how I feel.


	11. Ordinary World

I know it’s insanely overprotective and he doesn't need me to protect him, but after the fight with Kevin, I've been following Carl everywhere. It's driving him crazy, but I can't help it. I don't want him getting hurt or winding up in another fighting. He's promised me there'll be no repeats, but it doesn't make me worry any less. I didn't give him a choice when it was time to leave for Atlanta; I was packed and on the plane before he could tell me no. He won't admit it, but I know he's at least partly happy to have me with him. Being split up for days at a time isn't very much fun for either of us.

"…Carl, someone's knocking on the door," I lift my head off the arm of the couch and glance over at where he's talking to his mom at the kitchen table. She's known about us for a while now and she's been so cool about it. She's quickly become one of my favorite people to have around.

"It's probably a reporter," he crinkles his nose and gets up to answer the door, "They always look for people to bug during rain delays." He pulls the door open and sure enough, there's a camera, boomstick, and a reporter waiting under a jumbo umbrella. They look miserable and apologetic, like they've already had a couple doors slammed in their faces. Carl plasters on the work smile and pulls the door open wider, "Hey guys, what's up?"

It amazes me how smoothly he can transition into Carl-the-Driver. Like it's normal to have reporters knocking on your door asking for shoot interviews, just because it's raining. I watch as he speaks with them, then introduces everyone on the coach with us. His driver, Tom, who at the moment is grilling a couple burgers for us; his mom, sitting at the kitchen table with the laptop open; his "fiancé", who's actually a family friend acting as a beard for us; and me, sprawled out and comfortable on the couch.

In no time, the camera's rolling and Carl's babbling about anything he can think of. His car, his team, the rain, the coach, the A/C switch I failed to notice above my head. It goes smooth and fast and soon we're all alone again in the peaceful bubble we all share. Tom grabs the burgers off the grill and midway through our meal, Carl's phone goes off. It's someone from Speed, asking him to make an appearance on Trackside Live. He agrees and hangs up, then turns to me and asks if I'd like to come along. It sounds like fun so I agree, scarfing down the last of my burger.

**I always enjoy getting to do appearances on Trackside. The guys are fun to be around and the fans are always entertaining. Having John along this time just makes it even cooler. I grin at him as a Speed crew member hooks me up to a mic pack, "You should come out with me, it could be fun. Give the crowd a taste of the WWE."**

**He grins at my teasing, winking playfully, "Maybe I will. Maybe I'll grab some silly string and shaving cream and make a mess out of all of you. A little pre-Halloween trick."**

**It's never easy to tell when he's serious or kidding around about these things and suddenly I'm afraid he'll really try it. Pranking a group of people at once on national television is not something I'd put past him, "John don't you DARE!" He laughs that mischievous laugh I know far too well and rubs his hands together, eyebrows wiggling fiendishly, "John! Seriously! Don't even think-"**

**"Carl, you're on!" A stagehand directs me to the stage entrance and I groan, running out to meet the guys. The fans cheer and a genuine smile spreads across my face. I really do love my job. I shake hands with everyone, give a wave to the crowd behind the stage, and quickly fall into a comfortable interview with the guys. Several minutes in, someone asks about John and I can feel the grin on my face widen, like it always does when I hear his name.**

**"Actually," I glance around nervously, fully expecting him to be behind me with a shaving cream nozzle aimed at my face, "He's around here somewhere…" I can hear myself rambling about his hijinx, but my brain is more focused on ducking for cover if he bursts out here fully armed.**

**Suddenly, John's entrance music is blaring and a fog machine is going off. I laugh and sigh in relief when I see him, not a can in sight, across the stage from where I'm sitting. The crowd cheers for him and the guys get up to greet him. I'm a little disappointed when he sits clear across the stage, next to Hammond, but it's probably for the better. We can't always keep our hands off of each other.**

**The conversation drifts to John and his car collection after a few minutes and I take the time to pull out my camera to snap some pictures of him. He sees me but doesn't bat a lash, continuing to talk about his cars and his abilities as a mechanic. He makes the mistake of mentioning marriage and suddenly all eyes are on me. Dammit, John! I blush and stumble through a carefully concocted story about my new fiancé. I trip and refer to her as my girlfriend, which earns me some jibes from Larry and Jeff. Oops. I recover quickly and sigh in relief when we stop for a commercial.**

I've never had so much fun doing an interview in my life. The atmosphere is so laid back and fun, everyone's completely relaxed and at ease. Shoot interviews have always been my favorite. I don't like feeling rehearsed and scripted. It's more fun to just answer questions with the first thing that comes to mind. Doing on with Carl is even cooler; it's interesting to come into someone else's world and see how things work for them. I like getting the sneak peak behind the curtain.

The taping's over all too soon and after stopping to sign some autographs and take some pictures, we hop onto Carl's golf cart and head back to the coach. It's going to be a crazy night. He has to leave for Memphis early to make it in time for quals and the Nationwide race. I admire him so much for his work ethic. He's dedicated, full of stamina, and so completely driven and motivated. I don't think he ever has a truly awful day behind the wheel, just hits some bumps in the road. I wish I could have the attitude he does. Sometimes it's hard to be optimistic when it's your own body ruining things. One damn muscle and I'm washed up for months, but Carl? Carl finds a way to drive with a broken hand. He makes it all look so easy. He's incredible.

"John? Buddy, you planning on sleeping on the cart tonight?" Carl gives me a poke in the bicep and I smile up at him sheepishly before following him onto the coach. He shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table with his ball cap. I watch him for a moment before following him back to the bedroom, the both of us stripping out of our clothes before falling into bed.

**I smile softly and curl up to John as we slip under the covers, draping an arm over his waist. He's got that happy-pensive look on his face and I can't bring myself to pull him out of it again. Having him on Trackside with me today was fun and exciting, and I wish we could do it more often. Hell, I wish I could join him for a WWE taping one day; make an even exchange of tonight's experience. I'll have to bring it up sometime, maybe on the flight to Memphis in the morning. I know it's not really his call, but I'm sure he could at least ask someone about it if he's interested in the idea. I snuggle in closer to him and rest my head on his chest, "John? Whatcha thinking about?"**

**"Nothing important…" his fingers find my hair, curling around it, massaging my scalp, "Ready to go tomorrow?"**

**"Of course," glance up at him, "Got my lucky charm with me, I'll be fine."**

**He smiles and looks down at me, "I'm your lucky charm, huh? And here I thought I was only eye candy."**

**"Well you're that, too," I tease, tightening my arm around him so we're as close as possible. I really wish it could be like this all the time, so quiet and comfortable. It makes us seem plain and ordinary, like we're just two normal people without all the fame and fortune, "John?"**

**"Yeah?" His voice is thick and groggy. He's just about gone.**

**"I love you."**


	12. Something Unpredictable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is only from John's POV

I love you. I LOVE you. I love you?

What was he thinking? What made him…we've never…I'm still at a loss for words and it's been an entire week. Do I love him back? What does it mean for us if I do? …and if I don't? I can't think straight. It's the only thing on my mind right now. I've been repeating that moment over and over in my head since that night. It was like the first time he tried kissing me, all over again. I'd been pretending to sleep to avoid causing a fight or anything. The next morning I'd gotten a call from Vince saying he needed to see me, pronto. Talk about saved by the boss. I'd jetted off to Connecticut while Carl went to Memphis, obviously upset with me for cutting our weekend together short.

I COULD have made it to Atlanta in time for the race on Sunday, but I made up an excuse for missing it. Emergency meeting with the creative department, or something like that. He was less than thrilled with me, but it was better than arguing with him over feelings when I didn't even have a clue how to react. I care for him, a lot, but I don't know if it's LOVE. I've never really been "in love" before, so it's not like I can compare. I've told a couple girls I loved them, and meant it, but it just seems like such a different dynamic with Carl. Granted, our families know about us and accept us, but what happens when "love" gets involved? Will he want to start coming out to our friends? I'm definitely not ready to take that big of a plunge yet. I'm still getting used to being comfortable around our parents.

"John. John are you paying attention? CENA!"

"WHA?!" Nearly fly out of my chair at the gruff voice of Vince McMahon, turned up to thirty thousand decibels in his office. He's glaring at me, never a good sign, annoyance clear in his eyes. As if I don’t have enough to worry about, now I've gone and pissed off the boss. Good job, Cena. Real good job.

"If I'm keeping you from something more important, John, by all means…" He gives me the patented McMahon stink-eye and I shrink down in my seat, mumbling an apology. Vince is one of a few people who can intimidate me, and it has nothing to do with him being my boss. I'm pretty sure he could kick my ass if he felt like it.

"Sorry, sir. Won't happen again," Clear my throat and shift uncomfortably under his aggravated gaze, trying not to make an even bigger fool of myself.

"See that it won't. Now, back to Survivor Series…" He shuffles through some papers on his desk, grumbling about his lazy, good-for-nothing secretary. Guess I'm not the first person to piss him off today. Of course, he'd fire her a lot faster than he'd dump me. Lord knows I'm expendable, but he also knows I'm one hell of a money maker and at the end of the day Vince will always do what's best for business. Even if it means putting up with my stupid ass.

Bzz…Bzz…Bzz…

Great. As if I'm not in enough trouble, now my phone's going off! Even on silent, it's obnoxiously loud and it quickly catches Vince's attention. He glares at me, even more irritated than before, and I can feel the blood draining from my face as the vein in his forehead protrudes and starts to throb. I'm so fucked.

"Are you going to get that, John?"

He says it like a demand and I can feel my palms start to sweat. Any second now he's going to come across the desk and strangle me. I pull the phone out of my pocket miserably, groaning inwardly when I see Carl's name on the ID. He has the worst timing possible. I glance up at Vince and shake my head as I send the call to voicemail, "Nothing important, sir, just my buddy Carl."

"Carl…" there's a thoughtful look on his face, "He's the racer, right? Guy you did that show with?"

"I- yeah. Yeah, that's him," I'm shocked he even remembers.

"How's he doing? He's close to winning that cup thing this year, right? Saw something on ESPN…" the look gets more intense and now I'm nervous. That look usually leads to ridiculous storylines and…oh fuck. I hope he doesn't suggest Carl comes on a couple shows. But I know that look and when he starts mumbling to himself I know it's exactly what he wants.

"We should talk to him about coming out to a couple filmings, maybe have him commentate or cut a few promos…Could draw in some new crowds, open us up to a new demographic…be good for business, especially now…"

I swallow thickly and nod once, tightening my grip on the armrests clenched in my hands. This is a bad idea. A very bad idea. I'm sure Carl would have an awesome time but with things the way they are right now, I can't see it going well, "I'll…see what I can do, Vince. He's really busy with work and he's getting married, so I'm sure most of his free time is gonna be spent with his fiance, planning and stuff…I'll run it by him though."

He seems satisfied and shifts the conversation back to the upcoming PPV, while I silently wonder what this all means. If I loved Carl, wouldn't I jump at the chance to work with him? Wouldn't I be excited to have him here with me, seeing what I do for a living first hand?

…or maybe it's that I DO love him and I'm afraid it'll be so damn obvious that everyone will pick up on it in two seconds and I'm nervous about how they'll react.

It's when I feel my phone buzzing in my hand, alerting me of a new voicemail, that it occurs to me that I don't CARE what anyone thinks. I DO love him, and it doesn't matter who knows or what they think. Carl's mine and I love him and that's ALL that matters.


	13. Another Mountain

**The crowd roars, the music blares, the flashbulbs pop, and it's easy to see why John loves this so much. I have a diva on either arm, a huge grin on my face, and butterflies in my stomach. I could get used to this. The walk to the ring is over before I know it. Climbing through the ropes comes like second nature. I move easily up and down the turnbuckles, soaking in the energy around me. On the last turnbuckle, I give myself a boost and spring back, heels over head. It's by far one of the best backflips I've ever done, landing smoothly on my feet. The crowd goes even wilder and my grin spreads wider. I've memorized a quick monologue, rolling through it with practiced ease. John helped me get it down at the hotel earlier in the day. I want this moment to go on forever. I've wanted to be a part of his world for so long I've lost track. Now I finally am.**

**It's been nearly a year since the discovery of Andrew Martin's death and for a while, John seemed to slip further and further from me with every day that passed by. He'd been in zombie-mode since he found out and I don't even think they were that close. I'd been worrying for weeks but whenever I tried to bring it up, he'd change the subject or shut down completely. The entire off week surrounding Andrew's death went down the drain when John got word. We'd been skiing in Aspen, riding to the top of a Black Diamond trail when his phone went off. He lost it as soon as he hung up. It was Chris Benoit all over again and I was lost for what to do. I ended up paying off the gondola attendant so we could ride around a couple times. It was midway through the third trip before he finally pulled himself together. We wound up calling it an early day and spent much of the next few days locked away in our hotel suite. He didn't cry much; just sort of stared out the windows, seemingly deep in thought. It hadn't changed much by the time we'd gotten to Bristol. He had to leave for a string of shows and I was afraid to let him go. I was terrified he'd do something stupid or completely fall apart and I wouldn't be there to pick up the pieces for him. Ever since Chris died and we spent that night together in Texas, I've had this overwhelming need to protect him and take care of him. I can't do that long distance. I mean, I could try but God knows it's not the same.**

**I'd done everything I could think of over the last year to get things back on track with us. The days flew by and slowly but surely John came out of his funk and reverted to his old self. It's never easy to lose someone, but I imagine it's even harder when the circumstances are so unexpected and shocking. Another wrestler died from a drug overdose, another life lost far too early. It was tough on everyone and I think the reality of what this lifestyle can do to you finally sunk in with John and for a long time he didn't really know how to handle it. We'd spent much of the summer avoiding the subject, but by the time the chase had started, everything was back to normal. It was like he'd brushed it all under the rug and just figured out how to move on and forget all about it. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. Either way. I'm thrilled that things are good again. I'm thrilled to be here in Lafayette tonight, playing my part on Raw, being a part of his world even if it's only for a couple hours. I've had a taste of his passion and I'm hooked. It's so damn easy to see why John and the rest of the wrestlers chose this path in life. It's an addiction.**

So much death, all around me. Every time I turn around, another of us is in the ground. Just when I manage to get over one, another one follows. Eddie, Chris, now Andrew? It's amazing how the cycle never ends. I can't help but worry about who's going to be next. Could it be me? Will it be one of the Hardy brothers? Maybe Randy or Dave? There's no telling these days and with the bogus "wellness plan" WWE has going, it's never going to stop. Lately the locker room is like a back alley in a slum: pain killers, steroids, random other party favors all being passed around just so we can make it through one more night, one more week, one more broken bone or pulled muscle. I won't lie. I've been tempted to join the growing ranks of pill poppers and needle pushers. Sometimes it just seems easier than dealing with the pain and torment of the life I've chosen to live. Why rehab a pulled pectoral muscle for a year when I could take some pills to make the pain just disappear?

I think the only thing that keeps me from going down that path is Carl. He means far too much to me to go screwing everything up. God knows the last thing I ever want to do is push him away because of some ridiculous addiction. I refuse to be one of those guys who shuts down and cuts off the entire world because of drugs. I've worked too long and too hard to make it this far. I've put my entire life out there to make him mine. Drugs aren't worth ever losing him. Nothing is worth losing him. I just wish the other guys in the locker room could find something equally as important to them so maybe they'd cut it out. It kills me watching my friends- my brothers -die over something so completely preventable. All they need is a reason to say no, a reason to do things the right way. Yes, it's hard to resist, to go against the flow, but in the end it's worth it. In the end, they'll still be alive, and not just another statistic. Another fallen soldier on this battlefield we call a job. All the wear and tear catches up with us in the long run but at least without the pills and the juice the run might be a little longer. No one deserves to die before thirty-five. No one deserves to suffer in silence for fear of losing their job. It kills me every time I see one of the boys masking his pain or shrugging off an injury, because they think it's one step closer to being released. I want to knock the bottle from their hands and tell them to stop being an idiot, but I don't. I do what everyone else does and turn my head away. Maybe that's why I feel partly responsible for Andrew's death.

The truth is, Carl is the reason why I'm still alive and healthy. I've been close to the edge a dozen times but then he calls me or someone mentions him and I snap back to reality. I know the year leading up to tonight has been a rough one for us and it's mostly my fault. When word of Andrew's death spread through the company, I was rocked hard. Here was a guy not much older than myself who had everything in the world going for him, and it ended. Just like that. There was no big goodbye for Andrew, no big curtain call of a show. It was just a quick announcement before a filming, a thirty second blurb on the local news channel. Honestly, with how often this is happening in the business, it's like the world has just gone numb to it. Another Pro Wrestler dead from popping pills? Just tack it onto the stats chart and move on with your lives, folks. Carl's been a godsend. He's been patient and understanding and even sympathetic. I'll admit I was a bit nervous to bring him into my world when Vince first mentioned it, but now that he's here? I couldn't be happier.

When Carl comes backstage after his opening monologue, I'm bursting with pride. Our eyes meet as he hops down the stairs into the Guerilla Position and his beam nearly blinds me. We share a quick, excited hug before a small crowd descends on us, congratulations and good jobs swarming him. Good ol' JR comes over to shake his hand, thanking him for coming out tonight. Carl's as gracious as ever, thanking JR profusely for the opportunity. The crowd thins out and the two of us disappear down a hall toward the main locker room, where my colleagues are preparing for their turn in the spotlight. Carl's fidgeting like crazy, buzzing with energy that's quickly catching on. I can feel my own pulse picking up, the familiar feel of adrenaline flowing through my veins. Our hands bump as we walk and I swear it sets off fireworks between us. Before we walk into the room he takes a quick glance around and then kisses me softly, a lightning fast peck on my lips. It's all we can really risk right now, but It's got me jonesing for so much more.

"Are you hanging around tonight?" Hold the door open for him, my heart sinking when his smile falters for a split second. I figured he'd have to get back to Daytona but I thought just maybe We'd get one night together.

**It kills me to see that heartbroken look on John's face. Over the last couple weeks we've gotten to spend less and less time together. The off-season spoiled us rotten but not that we're back to racing, I've barely had time to use the bathroom, let alone sneak away with John on secret getaways. The time apart is taking a huge toll on us, but there's not much we can do to fix it. We've been doing our best, but lately it's just not enough. It's like all that time we spent patching things up and getting back on track after Andrew's death has all been in vain. All the struggling to keep him sane, all the nights on the phone for hours when we both needed sleep, all the overnight trips just to fall asleep in the comfort of one another's arms, it's all been torn to shreds in one single instant. It kills me that I have to run out on him like this again, but I'm needed in Daytona. If it were any other race weekend, I'd have no problem shrugging off an appearance, but this week it's just not possible.**

**John's usually warm face turns to stone, his voice clipped, "It's fine, Carl. I get it."**

I know I shouldn’t be mad or upset, but I can't help it. Racing is back and I know how insane the week leading up to the 500 is. I just can't help wishing that just once we could have normal lives. Lives that don't involve us to travel nonstop. I'm fuming mad and I can't stop myself. I barely manage to keep my cool on the walk to Carl's rental car. He's not even sticking around for my match and that stings worse than acid in a wound. I get that he has to work, but is an extra hour really asking for a lot? I'm so worked up I can barely bring myself to hug him goodbye. I can see the sadness in his eyes and I know it mirrors my own. This whole situation becomes more and more unbearable the longer we're together.

"I'll…I'll call you when I get in, okay?" His voice is soft and unsure, so different from his usual self. Guilt hits me like a mac truck, square in the chest.

"Of course, Carl. I'll be waiting on pins and needles," Flash him a smile I hope comes off as happy and pull him into a bearhug. There's no point in being miserable. It'll only ruin what little time we have together. He immediately relaxes into my embrace, arms going tight around my waist.

"I love you, Carl."

**"I love you, too, John," Part from him reluctantly, dropping a kiss to his cheek before sliding into my rented Taurus. I know things are far from okay and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. We love each other, but that doesn't seem to be enough anymore. I want it to be, badly, but when we spend so much time apart, and make each other miserable when we're together… I just don't know anymore. My eyes drift to the rearview mirror as I pull away, watching John disappear inside just before I round a corner. I need to make this right somehow. I need to make him happy again.**

It seems like weeks have gone by by the time I reach my hotel. The rest of the show went off just fine, and Carl called me just as I was getting into the car to leave the arena. We spent my car ride home on the phone, sharing small talk that seemed far too forced. Shoulder my gear bag and cram my phone in my pocket, giving the night clerk a nod as I breeze through the hotel lobby. Some of the guys are already on their way to the next show, but I'd decided earlier in the week to hold off on leaving with the hope that Carl would be with me tonight. I could have easily canceled tonight's reservation, but it just seemed like too much work.

The elevator doors ding open on my floor and I saunter out into the hallway, stopping at the vending machines for a bottle of water and some poptarts on the way to my room. Not exactly dinner of champions, but I'm starving and there's nothing really appetizing on the room service menu this late at night. The electronic lock buzzes and clicks open when I swipe my keycard and I give the door a shove as my bag starts to slip down my arm. I go to flip the light on, but something stops me. Flickering on the desk across the room are several little candles that I know aren't mine. I see a few more on the TV stand and one in the bathroom to my left. Confused, I glance at the number on the door, but sure enough this is my room.

And then it hits me.

**"Carl?" John peaks around the corner into the bedroom, his eyes going wide with shock when he sees me laying on the bed, under the covers, my naked torso resting on the headboard. Everything in his hands falls to the floor and in an instant he's on the bed, hovering over me, our faces inches apart.**

**"Carl what are you doing here? You have to be in Daytona!" His voice is a hushed shout, so hoarse and thick with emotion he doesn't sound like himself.**

**My arms come up to wrap around him, pulling him down into a tender kiss. He moans softly as our lips meet, his hands cupping my face, pressing his body to mine. It doesn't take long for things to turn from tender to intense and before I know it he's under the covers with me, settled so perfectly between my legs, our mouths glued together in a mind boggling kiss. My head spins, heart races, arms and legs tremble as he takes me; slow and hard, fast and gentle, every way he can. Our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, so perfectly in synch. He knows where and how to touch me, he knows every curve of my body just like I do his. We take our time, letting things build up, then finally lose control and it's perfect. Every nerve is lit on fire, every touch is electrified. When I feel him lose it completely, in a hot wet rush inside of me, I scream his name and let the ecstasy overtake me as well. This is what I stuck around for. This is what I live for.**

When I wake up the next morning, I'm shocked to find a body nestled against me, sleeping soundly. Part of me expected him to take off in the middle of the night while I was still asleep. For all I know, that's still his plan but I botched it all up by waking up before him. Of course, one look at his face has me not caring either way. Carl's a beautiful creature, even more so when he's lost in dreamland. His face goes slack, lips turned up just the tiniest bit at the corners, every muscle relaxed in his perfect face. I can watch him sleep for hours, not that I ever really get the chance to do it. I take advantage of this moment, fingers caressing all the dips and curves of his face with feather light touches, not wanting him to wake up just yet.

Any hope of a quiet morning in bed with him is shattered by the obnoxious sound of a cellphone ringtone, accompanied by the rumbling of a phone vibrating across a hard surface. I glance just past Carl to the bedside table on his side of the bed and see his phone lighting up and skittering across the dark wood. I reach across him for the offending piece of electronics and glance at the screen, sighing when his mom's picture shows up. I love her to death, but the woman had awful timing. Hit the accept button and put the phone to my ear, greeting her with a good morning that comes out more like a "Fuck you, leave me alone". She asks for Carl and I have to force myself to wake him up, putting the phone to his ear while he's still half asleep and trying to figure out what's going on. When he hears his mother's voice his eyes snap open, any bit of sleep remaining thrown out the window. With a heavy heart I watch as he jumps from the bed and scrambles to get dressed, assuring his mom that he'll be on the jet back to Daytona ASAP, to just cover for him for a few hours until he can get there. I guess I was right about him planning on ducking out while I was still asleep.

After hanging up and dressing himself in the same clothes from last night, Carl turns to me with heart break in his eyes, apologizing over and over for having to take off like he is. I know he means it and I know it's killing him to just run out on me, but I've come to expect it at this point in our relationship. Lord knows I've done it to him a couple times myself, but it never gets easier. I push myself out of the bed and pull on a pair of workout shorts, walking him to the door where we share a long kiss goodbye. He gives me one more apologetic look before darting out the door and practically sprinting down the hall, bypassing the elevator for the stairs. I stand there in the doorway of my room for a long while after he's out of my sight, numb to the world around me. It's just another mountain we have to climb in our relationship, another uphill battle we'll somehow overcome.


	14. When I Come Around

My whole body is buzzing with excitement. Every heart beat send a thrill through my veins, shooting down my spine. I've had butterflies since last night. It's Wrestlemania XXVI. No matter how many 'Manias I'm a part of, it's always the same. I get butterflies, I get nervous, I get excited. I can't sit still. It's an incredible feeling. I woke up this morning and jumped out of bed before the alarm could even think of going off. I've been going 100MPH since the second my eyes opened and I can't wait for my turn in the squared-circle. I already know the outcome of my match tonight and that just makes the wait ten times more unbearable. By noon I was jumping out of my skin with nerves and excitement. The morning was spent working out and doing some last minute press deals, but once it was all over and done with, I had nothing but an excruciating wait ahead of me. My one relief is that we're in Phoenix so I only have to wait until five o'clock for this thing to start. It's too bad this damn state doesn't believe in daylight savings, I'd get to wait one less hour, but no. Damn Arizona, just has to be different.

"John! Hey, John! Yo, Cena!" Turn when I hear someone calling my name on my way to the locker room, stopping to wait for my opponent for the night to catch up to me. Dave Batista is a mountain of a man, covered in tattoos and a tan he works on religiously. We've been tight since we came into the company, but this latest arc has thrown us perilously close to the rank of friends. He's a good guy, a family man, but he runs with the corporate crowd and that's not drama I want to deal with; I keep him at arms length as a result. We fall into step together, body-bag sized gear bags slung over our shoulders, easily falling into a conversation about our match. In the back of my mind, I know the Championship belt is safely tucked away in his bag and I swear I can hear it calling my name. Willpower is all that stands between me and that coveted strap of gold.

Once we enter the locker room, we're met with a flurry of activity. All the excitement buzzing in the room is enough to make even the crankiest old man smile. All around me my fellow entertainers and athletes are preparing for tonight; hemming costumes, revising scripts, running over matches. In seconds I'm a part of the crowd, stopping to good off with a couple of the guys as I dump my gear bag onto a folding chair off to the side. Backstage is like communal living, everyone huddling together en masse, like cavemen around a campfire. Amid the chaos, Vince McMahon struts around, his chest puffed out just a little further than usual. Wrestlemania is his baby, what he works for all year long. It came as no surprise to any of us when we found out he was giving himself a match. I won't lie, either. I turned into a schoolgirl when Bret Hart showed up for the first time.

**I see him before he sees me and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to run across the locker room and tackle him to the ground. Instead, I shove my hands in my pockets and saunter over, nodding to people I pass on my way. By the time I reach John he's knee deep in conversation with Dave Batista, all gestures and wrestling lingo. I tap him on the shoulder, my grin widening when he turns to see who's behind him. The expression on his face goes from shocked to confused to utterly thrilled in under thirty seconds.**

**"CARL! What're you doing here, man? Shouldn’t you be in Virginia right now?" He wraps me in a quick hug, the elation on his face making my heart speed up.**

**"It's pouring cats and dogs, they had to postpone the race to tomorrow. I was bored as hell so I got in my jet and made the trip out here. Vince was more than happy to put my name on the guest list."**

**As if he heard me talking about him, Vince McMahon materializes beside me, all swagger and pride, "Carl Edwards! Glad you made it, how was the trip out here?"**

**I fall into a quick conversation with Vince while John goes back to discussing his match with Dave. The show's already well underway and the buzzing in the locker room is contagious. Before I know it, I'm fidgeting from side to side, rocking from the balls of my feet to the heels, talking animatedly with my hands. By the time Vince leaves me to make his rounds, I'm as excited as if I'm a part of the show.**

**"You look like you're about to rocket to the moon," John's voice is in my ear at the same instant I feel his hands on my shoulders.**

**Turn to face him, the look on his face making my stomach do flipflops, "You do, too. Must have some good news about tonight's outcome?"**

**He knows I'm hinting at whether or not he's winning the title back tonight, but I know he's not going to tell me. Instead he gives me a mischievous grin and shrugs his shoulders, "I don't know, we'll have to wait a see."**

By the time my match is up, I'm ready to explode. It's felt like weeks since the show started and not even having Carl here can distract me for long. When they call Dave and me to the Guerilla position, I practically long jump to it and Carl watches me with an amused grin on his face. This isn't the first Wrestlemania he's been to, he's used to my excitability, but I guess it's still funny all the same. Dave and I share a hug and a good luck before he bursts onto the stage and after one more good luck from Carl I step to the side to start psyching myself up. The Air Force Drill Squad is doing a routine before I come out but I can't watch them. It's time to get into fight mode. By the time my entrance music is blaring through the arena I'm ready to explode, my mind focused on only one thing: That Gold Strap.

**I manage to find myself a good spot to watch John's match from backstage and as usual he amazes the hell out of me. The whole thing is like an intricate dance, every move choreographed, every step thoroughly rehearsed. I could watch him do this for hours. Around me, a small crowd has formed, all watching the match. I take a quick glance around at everyone, filled with pride for the man in the ring I get to call my own. When I turn back to the monitor, John's got Dave in a submission hold and I can hardly believe my eyes when the big man taps out. John's done it once again- the title is his.**

I nearly explode when the bell goes off at the end of the match and the title is once again my own. I hug the strap tightly to my chest before hoisting it into the air, my body trembling with the adrenaline rush. No matter how many times they call me Champion, it never gets old. This is what I've worked so hard for, this is what I eat, sleep, and breathe for. Every day I wake up looking forward to this moment, and what makes this time even better is that I get to share it with someone backstage who means as much to me as this gold belt does.

When I come through the curtains, a small crowd has formed to congratulate me, but in the air is a bitter sweetness I try to ignore. Tonight is my shining moment, but off in a corner I see Shawn Michaels crouched down, trying to suppress his emotions. His fight tonight again Marc "The Undertaker" Calloway will be his last in a WWE ring. It's been a highly locked up secret that the Heartbreak Kid plans to hang up his boots, but up until this moment it didn't seem real. With the belt over my shoulder I high five a few more hands and move over to where Shawn is hunched over, quietly praying. He looks up when he feels my presence and we share a knowing look. This business gets into your veins and it's almost impossible to get it out. It's one drug habit you almost never kick, and when you try to it feels like death. He pushes himself to his feet and I barely get my hand out before he's squeezing it tightly, pulling me into a hug. He whispers a few kind words into my ear, choked with emotion, and when he pulls away I see the tears glistening in his eyes. I dread the day I'm in the man in his place.

**When John came through the curtains after his match I wanted nothing more than to tackle him to the ground right there but I suppressed the urge. Instead, I watched him walk to Shawn Michaels and share a moment so meaningful I almost got choked up. They'd barely spoken, but they didn’t need to. All they'd needed to say was clear in their eyes. I'd waited until John was completely alone to walk over to him, taking in the sad smile on his face. When our eyes met, I could see the familiar sparkle in them and in an instant we're both grinning like idiots, hugging one another tightly.**

**"Congratulations, John…" My arms squeeze tightly around his neck, uncaring of the sweat covering his skin. Take a deep breath in, inhaling his scent, just soaking in the moment.**

**"Thanks, Carl," he pulls away all too soon, fully aware of the image we have to uphold here with his colleagues, "You gonna stick around tonight or do you have to fly?"**

**My heart aches a little at the innuendo in his words because I'd love nothing more than to stay and celebrate with him, but I can't, "I'm sorry, John. I can't. I have to be back in Martinsville…race is at noon, driver's meeting is at eight…"**

**I can see the disappointment in his eyes but he fights to hide it, "Of course, I almost forgot. Call me when you get in, okay? Doesn't matter what time."**

As Carl walks off, I can't help the severe disappointment that washes over me. It's not often we get to see one another and every time we get a couple minutes together it feels like a huge tease, the carrot on a string in front of my face. He's right there but he's not at the same time. I can only be thankful that he was here at all, that he even got to share this moment with me in the first place. I shift the belt on my shoulder and head back to the locker room for a quick shower before I leave the arena for the night. I know I should stay to pay my respects to Shawn, but it feels like I've already done that tonight.

On a monitor nearby I can see the matching coming to its end, and through the curtains I can hear the crowd popping like never before. It's hard to believe a year ago it was Shawn ending Ric Flair's career and now here he is on his back on the mat, about to be counted out for the final time. Suddenly I know the shower can wait. This man deserves all the respect in the world and nothing can pull me away from this moment; not my title, not Carl, not even the sinking feeling in my gut that Shawn's career isn't the only thing about to come full circle.


	15. All Good Things

**It’s been months since I’ve seen John face to face. It’s been nearly three weeks since I’ve spoken to him on the phone. The summer was crazy for both of us and ever since the Chase started, I’ve had even less time to myself than usual. The hard part isn’t not getting to see John; it’s not getting to hear his voice. When we first got together, not a day went by without a phone call or two. As time went on, the calls got longer and more frequent. When the honeymoon phase ended, they went to once every few days. Lately, though? Lately I hear from him once a month if I’m lucky. I know he’s busy. He told me there’s a new movie in the works, a huge lead up to Survivor Series is in process, and they’ve upped his travel time. Somehow, none of that is a comfort to me.**

**After Talladega this weekend, I was at my breaking point. Not a word in weeks, not even a text message. Something was wrong and I wanted to know what. I changed my flight plan and bypassed Charlotte for New York. Raw was on Long Island Monday night and I knew he’d be there. It took some string pulling, but with a couple phone calls I had myself a ringside seat and access to the locker room. It’d taken all my strength to sit through the show without letting John know I was there, but I didn’t want to distract him while he was working. I admired him from my seat, cheering for him with the rest of the crowd. It was two of the longest hours of my life, but I love watching John do his thing. As the main even winded down, I stood from my seat and made my way backstage, flashing my credentials at security along the way. I found myself a spot off to the side of the Guerilla position and waited impatiently for John to appear.**

 When I stepped through the curtains, my body was buzzing with the familiar bursts of adrenaline that come with my job of choice. It'd been a good night, an awesome crowd, and I'd gotten to work with one of my favorite people again. Randy followed behind me a moment later, giving me a slap on the back and a knowing look before heading to the locker room. I was about to join him when a familiar voice called my name from the left. Caught completely by surprise, I whipped around, feeling like a deer in headlights.

"CARL!" I can hear my voice cracking with surprise, "Hey! What're you doing here? Thought you had testing or something!" Try as I might to be excited, the feeling just isn't there. My mind drifts back to the locker room and I can see on his face that he knows something is up.

"I just…miss you. I thought I'd surprise you…" the sparkle in his eyes fades quickly, "Look, if it's not a good time, I'll go. I just really wanted to see you. We haven't spoken in weeks…"

My stomach ties in knots at the heart broken look on his face, but I still can't find it in me to be truly happy to see him. Again my mind drifts to the locker room, "I'm sorry Carl, it's just been crazy for me. I get in at all hours, I'm in meetings nonstop…" I know I'm less than convincing but I'm too distracted to try very hard. Things with Carl have been on a steady decline since 'Mania in March and the longer we're apart the less I want to fix it.

**I can't keep the emotions inside me in check for much longer. It's obvious John doesn't want me here, so I do the only thing I can. Swallowing thickly, I say a soft goodbye and turn my back on him, practically sprinting for the parking lot. I hear him call my name and for a moment I'm sure he's coming after me, but when I stop and turn he's in the same place I left him. I know in my heart that it's over, and I force back the tears as it shatters to pieces in my aching chest. Deep down, a part of me knew this was coming, but that doesn't ease the sting.**

**When I climb into my rental car, something shiny on the passenger seat catches my eye. I'd completely forgotten about the belated birthday gift I'd brought with me for him. A glimmer of hope runs through me and I snatch it up, running back inside. John's probably in the shower by now so I let myself into the main locker room, a bit surprised to find it all but deserted. I guess the guys not in the main event took off early. The sound of water running drifts in from the shower room and I head toward it, stopping when I hear voices. One I recognize immediately as John's. It takes me a few minutes to recognize the other as Randy Orton, but their voices are so muffled I can't make out actual words. I'm sure it's normal for the wrestlers to shower together, but something about their hushed tons makes my stomach turn.**

**Slowly, I inch my way to the shower room door, peering around the corner. My eyes go wide when they land on John and Randy. Randy's on his knees before John, who has his hands on Randy's head as it bobs up and down quickly. John's eyes are closed, head back against the wall. I hear him moan and whisper words of encouragement and it's all I can do not to puke. The present falls from my hands as I spin on my heel and bolt from the room, the door swinging shut behind me with an ominous finality. If he moved on, he could have at least told me first. Instead, I found out like this and I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I'll never look back.**

I hear the door slamming seconds after I shoot down Randy's throat, chuckling as he bolts to his feet. We've been at this for months now and he's still adorably paranoid about getting caught. We finish our showers and emerge into the locker room, towels around our hips but it's empty. Maybe a janitor came in, or one of the stragglers left, but I can't be sure. We dress quickly, quietly discussing the dirty things we plan on doing when we get back to the hotel. Something on the floor catches my eye and my words die on my lips when I snatch it up.

The gift wrapped box is no bigger than a baseball and when I see Carl's handwriting on the gift tag, I know immediately who slammed the door. I've been caught red-handed but as I turn back to Randy, it occurs to me that I don't care. He knows all about Carl, but it didn't stop us from getting together. The guilt has faded over time, but now I know all the guilt in the world couldn't part me from the man in front of me right now.

"What is it?" Randy nods at the box in my hand.

"Nothing. One of the guys must've dropped it," Toss the box into the trash without another thought and shoulder my gearbag before following Randy out the door. I know I'll always love Carl for all he's done for me, but at the end of the day, all good things come to an end.


End file.
